


Maybe Then

by Oiks_Tooru



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Conflict, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Implied/Referenced Character Death, KenHina endgame I promise, Kuroo is a sweetheart, M/M, Multiple Pairings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Straight!Yamaguchi Tadashi, Suicidal Thoughts, Tsukki has really mellowed with age, Tsukki is a supportive friend for once, Yams needs to love himself more, everyone gets a chapter, mention of dementia, mention of depression, the problems that come with young adulthood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-13 20:38:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 21,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7136231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oiks_Tooru/pseuds/Oiks_Tooru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shouyou's life hadn't really gone the way he'd planned, but then neither had anybody else's. Everybody's got their own unique set of problems, but it's all about finding a plan b... or c and then maybe a plan d. Basically, everybody's a mess™ but they figure it out eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Maybe he’d done something wrong that day, Shouyou thought as the bus rode on, jostling him from side to side every so often when there was a bump in the road. Maybe he hadn’t jumped high enough, or run fast enough or… maybe he just hadn’t been good enough. Maybe that was why. The old lady sitting next to him coughed loudly and Shouyou suddenly found himself feeling claustrophobic. Everyone around him looked as miserable as he felt and he wondered distantly why the middle aged man in the grey suit kept fiddling with his fingers like he was missing something. Everyone on the evening bus back from town seemed to be missing something.

He got off three stops away from his house and stepped into the cool air of the early evening hoping that it might help clear his head. His skin was immediately covered in goosebumps. It was overcast, horribly grey but the weather showed no signs that it would actually rain. The air felt stale, hard to breathe in. He looked out at the dry grass and dying trees and wondered if life really was just cruel for the sake of being cruel. He’d spent far too long dwelling on the past, wondering what he could have – should have – done differently. There was nothing in the past but bitter disappointment. He knew that. And yet…

It seemed so much more painful to live in the present.

 

“I’m home!” He called, taking off his shoes and heading to the kitchen to pack the groceries away. The heavier plastic bags had left red indents on his arms and he rubbed at the marks absently in between packing items away.

“How was work?” His mother asked, looking up from what she was cooking briefly to acknowledge him. It smelled great. He wished he was hungry.

“Same as always.” He mumbled, wanting nothing more than to rid himself of the itchy, red uniform shirt he was wearing.

His mother looked up again, giving him a soft, sympathetic smile. He wished she wouldn’t look at him like that. Like she knew what was going on inside his head.

“Why don’t you go change, huh? Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.” He nodded and shuffled off, feeling a familiar cold defeat settle between his shoulder blades and weigh down his every step.

There was a brief silence, then, “Why don’t you call Kenma, Shouyou? I’m sure he’d like to know what you’re up to these days.” She called after him.

Shouyou sighed.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t.” He said, when he was sure his mother couldn’t hear him anymore.

He closed his bedroom door behind him and fell heavily against it, letting himself slide to the floor. He wished his mother would just let it go. There was a reason Kenma didn’t come around anymore, just like there was a reason Shouyou hated waking up every morning. Because Shouyou was a failure, but his mother didn’t need to know that.

He pulled his shirt off and threw it on the floor, cursing the tears that pricked his eyes. So life hadn’t gone the way he’d imagined it would - it rarely does. There was no reason to cry about it. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

**From: Kenma**

**I’m sorry.**

That was the third one that day.

Shouyou felt something in himself break then. Like he’d been held together by a thin string that had suddenly snapped. Somewhere in the distance he heard someone playing an off-tune piano.

“Goddammit!” He let his phone fall to the floor and buried his face in his knees, letting his frustrations drown him at last. I’m sorry, it had said. Like it was Kenma’s fault. Like he felt somehow responsible for Shouyou’s own failures.

“God fucking dammit…” He cried into his knees, feeling his chest tighten until he was sure he shouldn’t be able to breathe. But he was. He was still breathing. And he felt like he was paying for it.

“Shouyou? Shouyou, are you alright?” His mother called from the kitchen, shortly before he heard her soft footsteps heading towards his room. He sniffed and wiped at his eyes furiously.

“Y-yeah! I’m fine! Just…” He paused, “Stubbed my toe.” The footsteps stopped right outside his door.

“Are you sure?” She asked, hesitant. He knew she didn’t believe him, but he also knew she wouldn’t ask.

“Yes, mom. I’m just fine.” He lied. He felt like his life was crashing down around him – he was anything but fine. But she didn’t need to know that. No-one did.

He heard her sigh and start to walk away.

“Mom?”

“Yes?” He hated how hopeful she sounded.

“I’m not really hungry, so I think I’ll just go to bed now.” He could practically hear the sad smile on her face. He hadn’t eaten yesterday either.

“Okay, Shouyou. Goodnight.”

“Thanks. Night, mom.”

 

He heard Natsu come home about an hour later.

“Hey, mom.”

“Shh, Shouyou’s asleep.” A pause.

“Again?” No reply. “Mom…”

“No, no. I’m fine, Natsu, really.” Her voice broke. She was crying.

“It’s not your fault, mom. Okay?” No reply. “Okay? I promise.”

“I just… I feel like I’ve failed him, Natsu. I feel like I’ve failed as his mother.”

“Mom…”

The piano playing still hadn't stopped. He stopped listening after that.

 

“Shouyou?” Natsu closed his door behind her. He didn’t answer her. She already knew he was awake. “What happened?”

“How’s mom?” He asked instead. Natsu didn’t need to know either. She sighed and sat down at the end of his bed.

“Worried about you, as always.” He didn’t say anything. “I put her to bed half an hour ago. She’s exhausted.”

“I’m sure she is.”

“What happened, Shouyou?” A pause and a shaky breath.

“You know what happened.”

“And you know what I meant.” He shifted to look at the ceiling.

“Don’t tell mom.” Natsu bit her lip.

“She’s worried Shouyou. You’ll have to talk to her some time.”

“Please, Natsu.” She sighed but nodded anyway.

“Alright.” He avoided her eyes, looking down at his hands as he spoke.

“Two weeks ago, Kenma… he, uh…” His throat tightened around the words.

_Shou… I-I can’t do this anymore. I… I’m sorry._

“Oh.”

“… Yeah.” She ran her fingers through her messy, orange hair.

“I’m really sorry, Shou.”

“No. No, it’s… it’s alright. It was for the best, really. I don’t blame him.”

“That doesn’t mean it hurts less, Shou. It’s okay to hurt sometimes.” He shifted over and she lay down next to him. He covered his eyes with his arm.

“You’re more of a grownup than I am, sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” She laughed. The piano finally stopped playing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - I have taken artistic liberty here and made Yamaguchi straight. I know.  
> Also, there is one mention of something akin to a suicidal thought. Yams is not by any means suicidal, just... lost I suppose. So just a warning in case anybody may find that triggering.  
> Anyways, here goes! Enjoy!

“Where are you going?” Tadashi stopped halfway through opening the door, surprised by the question and wholly unprepared to answer it. Since when did Tsukki care where he was going?

“Um… Out.” Tsukki raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on his blatantly vague statement.

“Alright. What time will you be back?” Tadashi paused, unsure of what to say. He didn’t know when he’d be back, or if he’d be back at all that night for that matter.

“Late. Don’t wait for me.” Tadashi hadn’t thought it possible for Tsukki’s eyebrows to raise any higher, but he seemed to be full of surprises lately.

“That’s the third time this week.” He stated simply, shifting his eyes away from Tadashi in favor of boredly flicking through the pages of his textbook.

“I-I know, sorry. I just… have things to do.” He wasn’t lying, he told himself, just omitting some of the truth.

“Why are you apologizing? It’s none of my business what you do with your spare time.” Tadashi grimaced, glad Tsukki hadn’t bothered to look up as he mumbled a goodbye instead of answering.

“Bye, Tsukki.” He didn’t wait for an answer, quickly shutting the door behind him.

He wasn’t lying, just omitting some of the truth.

 

He repeated it like a mantra in his head as he walked and even as he pushed the door to the little arts and crafts store open, the little bell on the door frame announcing his arrival.

“Ah! Yamaguchi-kun, could you come over here for a second?” He heard a muffled voice call from behind some shelves. He followed the stench of hot glue until he found the source and, by consequence, the owner of said muffled voice.

“Nakamura-san? What are you doing, if I may ask?” Nakamura-san looked down at him from her perch on the top of a rather tall ladder and flashed him a bright smile, causing herself to wobble precariously. Tadashi suddenly felt sick.

“Gluing crayons to the wall!” She exclaimed, as if that clarified anything. She held up the hot glue gun for Tadashi to examine. If he didn’t feel sick before, he certainly did now.

“Umm… Why?” She suddenly stood up on the ladder, wobbling it further. Tadashi found himself clutching the ladder, holding it firm in an attempt to avoid any further bouts of sympathetic anxiety.

“For the aesthetic! I’m going to melt them so that they drip down the walls – like a rainbow!” She looked at him expectantly and he tried as best he could to smile back through his nausea.

“That’s very nice Nakamura-san. What did you need me for?” She sat back down on the top step and slid herself down, hitting her butt on every rung in her descent. Tadashi was sure this woman would have him in cardiac arrest one of these days.

“Oh, yes! Listen, Yamaguchi-kun, Himura-san quit.” Tadashi vaguely remembered the girl – he’d only met her a few times, when their shifts had coincided.

“Oh, really?” Nakamura-san nodded quickly, her turquoise bangs falling into her face. She raised one of her hands to brush it aside before remembering the hot glue and settling for blowing upwards repeatedly until it moved out of her eyes.

“Yeah, so, I hate to ask you this, but could you fill in for some of her shifts until I find a replacement?” She seemed briefly distracted by her own fingernails - painted neon pink and sparkly green on alternating fingers - before looking back up at him expectantly.

“Uhm… When exactly are these shifts?”

“Huh? Oh, well she did Saturday afternoons and Thursdays from three to seven. It’s totally okay if you can’t, or if you can only do one, but I’ll pay you what I was paying her on top of your normal wage if you take the shifts.” He nodded slowly. It would be tight, but Tadashi needed the money far more desperately than he needed spare time.

“Alright, I’ll do it. Thank you for the opportunity Nakamura-san.” He said, bowing slightly.

“No, thank _you_ Yamaguchi-kun. I thought for sure I’d have to ask Kashima-kun, so you really helped me dodge a bullet there.” Tadashi smiled at her words. Nakamura-san and Kashima-san were very similar people, Kashima-san being just as easily distracted and almost as eccentric - it was a wonder anything got done during his shifts. “Oh, and one more thing?”

“Yes, Nakamura-san?”

“How’s your mother doing lately?” Tadashi felt his chest tighten.

“Better, thank you.” She smiled slightly and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“That’s good. Just let me know if you ever need anything, okay?”

“I will, thank you.”

“You’re a sweet kid Yamaguchi, don’t let this get you down.”

“I won’t, thank you Nakamura-san.”

 

Tadashi was hit with the overwhelming smell of cigarette smoke and leather as he opened the door to Sasaki-san’s bar. Sasaki-san himself was standing in the center of the room, carefully circling a dark patch on the grey carpet. He looked up as Tadashi walked in and flashed him a grin.

“Yamaguchi! Thank goodness you’re here, can you please run to the back and fetch the mop?” Tadashi nodded, sprinting into the back room and returning with the mop within seconds. Sasaki-san smiled gratefully and took it, leaning his weight on it while he examined the stain on the carpet.

“Oh my god, is that blood?” Tadashi blurted, leaning forward to examine the sizable scarlet stain. Sasaki-san laughed a little before waving his hand dismissively.

“No, no. I almost wish it was though, blood might be easier to get out.” He huffed and shook his head, “Misaki just dropped a glass of wine earlier.” Tadashi smiled. Misaki was notoriously clumsy.

“Oh, you can just put some salt on that then.” Sasaki-san finally tore his eyes away from the stain to look at Tadashi.

“Huh?”

“Salt. It’ll soak up the stain.” A wide grin broke out on the older man’s face as he threw an arm around Tadashi’s shoulders.

“What would I do without you? You’ll make someone a good wife someday son,” Tadashi choked on his own spit, but Sasaki-san only grinned wider, “I’d marry you off to Misaki in a heartbeat. That girl can’t make ice.” Tadashi bit his tongue to keep himself from having another coughing fit.

“I’m flattered Sasaki-san, but I think Misaki and I are looking for… different things.” _Or the same things_. The thought popped into his head but Tadashi didn’t dare say it out loud, he was sure Misaki would tell her father in time.

“It’s a damn shame really. You better go change, we’ve got a busy night ahead of us.”

 

Tadashi left Sasaki-san’s bar just in time for the last bus, finally collapsing into bed around one in the morning.

“Yamaguchi? Is that you?” He heard Tsukki’s tired voice call just before his bedroom door creaked open. Tadashi rubbed his eyes and attempted a smile.

“Yes. Sorry, did I wake you?” Tsukki frowned and leaned against the doorframe.

“Yeah… It’s one in the morning Yamaguchi.” Tadashi mirrored the frown.

“Yes… it is. So…?” Tsukki rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

“So it’s one in the morning Yamaguchi. What are you doing that you’re out ‘till one in the fucking morning?” Tadashi flinched at the harsh tone, trying to look anywhere but at his friend.

“… Working.”

“’Till one in the morning.”

“Yes.” Tsukki shut his eyes and sighed, frustrated.

“Alright, but why?” Tadashi felt his chest tighten again. He wasn’t ready.

“I need the money.”

“Why?” Tsukki insisted, pushing himself off of the doorframe to step further into Tadashi’s room.

“Reasons.”

“Don’t bullshit me Yamaguchi.”

“Why do you need to know?!” Tadashi’s eyes widened at his own outburst, immediately feeling guilty. Tsukki’s eyes widened too for a moment, but his expression fell back to neutral almost immediately. Tadashi could practically see Tsukki’s walls rebuilding in front of his eyes. “No, Tsukki, wait. I didn’t mean- “

“No, you’re absolutely right.” He interrupted, “I don’t need to know.” Tadashi shut his eyes and put his head in his hands.

“Tsukki, you know I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry, okay? Please just don’t- “

But a curt and cold, “Goodnight Yamaguchi.” Was all he got in response before Tsukki turned around and slammed the door behind him.

“Tsukki, please wait!” He called, but he was met only with complete silence. He fell back onto his bed and pushed the heels of his palms onto his tired eyes until there were shapes floating around behind the dark of his eyelids.

“Fuck my life.” He said to the empty room, wishing he could do everything differently, that everything could have been different. Sometimes he just didn’t want to live anymore. Sometimes nothing felt worth it anymore.

 

The phone rang three times before someone picked up.

“… Yeah, I got it. Miyagi Heights, how may I help you?” A cheerful voice chirped on the other side of the line.

“Hey Natsumi, it’s Yamaguchi. Do you know if my mother is-?”

“One sec Yamaguchi-san. I’ll check.” Tadashi heard some muffled movement on the other end and sighed.

“… Just Yamaguchi is fine, Natsumi.” He mumbled before adding a quiet, “We know each other well enough by now.” And almost hoped she didn’t hear him.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, she’s awake. I’m not sure if she’ll recognize you though… She seemed super confused.” She sounded apologetic and Tadashi found himself smiling despite himself. He’d always liked Natsumi.

“No, that’s alright. It’s always worth a try right?”

“Yeah, I guess…” She said, sounding unsure.

“I’ll try come in tomorrow, but I can’t today so I just wanted to say hi.” She sighed and he heard more muffled moving and some soft and distant speaking.

“Good morning Yamaguchi-san! I have a phone call for you!” He didn’t hear the response but held his breath as he heard the phone being handed over.

“Hello?” Tadashi smiled to himself at the sound of his mother’s voice.

“Hi, mom.” He tried, careful not to get his hopes up this time.

“Osamu?” Tadashi bit his lip.

“No, mom, it’s me. It’s Tadashi? Do you remember me?” It was silent for a long moment before he heard her huff a breath in frustration.

“Tadashi… I- “There was a sudden intake of breath on her side, “Oh, yes! Tadashi! My son, Tadashi!” He heard Natsumi let out a relieved giggle on the other side and almost joined in, but he was already smiling and close to crying from relief.

“Yes mom, yes it’s me. It’s me. I…” He choked up a bit, “How are you? Are you liking it there?”

“I’m just fine darling, just fine. I’m having a wonderful time, thank you.” She lowered a voice a bit, “And I think the nice young lady who gave me the phone has a crush on you. She was blushing the whole time you two spoke.” Tadashi laughed.

“Mom!” He chastised as he heard an embarrassed, “Yamaguchi-san!” from Natsumi. His mother laughed too and Tadashi almost couldn’t believe how much he’d missed that sound – or how much he’d actually needed to hear it.

“Anyway,” She said, “How are you, Tadashi?” Tears started rolling down his cheeks and he sniffled, wiping roughly at his face.

Sometimes though, it did feel worth it.

“I’ll be just fine, mom. I think… I think I’ll be just fine.”


	3. Chapter 3

The sunlight streaming in through the window was burning Kenma’s eyes, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be bothered enough to turn over.

“Kenmaaa,” Kuro whined, stretching himself over his friend – or rather, the heap of blankets that used to be his friend. “Kenma, please… It’s been days. You have to go outside, or like… even just getting out of bed and eating something or taking a shower would be enough at this point. Pleeaase?”

“No.” Kenma’s voice was quiet and rough from disuse, but the whines his response elicited from Kuro suggested that he’d gotten his point across.

“Why not? Give me one good reason and I’ll leave you alone for an hour.” Kenma sighed and tugged on the blankets, forming an even tighter cocoon around himself.

“EverythingoutsideremindsmeofShouyou.” He mumbled into his pillow, hoping simultaneously that Kuro had heard him and that he hadn’t.

“What? Speak up Kenma, I can’t hear a word you’re saying.”

“Everything outside reminds me of Shouyou, okay? I don’t feel like going outside, or getting up, or taking a shower. I’m not hungry and I just really want you to leave me alone.” Kuro sat up and looked at Kenma, stunned. “What?” Kenma snapped, becoming more and more uncomfortable under Kuro’s stare.

“I… It’s just… Alright then.” Kuro said, pushing himself up off the bed and heading to the door. He turned around halfway through opening it to look at Kenma. “So I take it you won’t be attending any lectures today then?” Kenma glared at him, seemingly answering his question as Kuro nodded quickly and left, shutting the door softly behind him.

A moment later, Kenma heard his mother’s soft footsteps on the creaky stairs.

“No luck Kozume-san, sorry.” Kuro said.

“No, that’s alright. Thank you for trying anyway Tetsu-chan. It’s always a pleasure having you over and I’m sure Kenma feels the same way, though I doubt he’d ever say so.” His mother’s voice was soft, quiet like her son’s but far more expressive. Kuro chuckled a bit.

“Thank you Kozume-san, it’s always a pleasure to be over here. I’ll try again later after my lectures – if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, I’d appreciate that very much. I’m just… worried about him. I’ve never seen him like this.”

“He’ll come around, I’m sure. I’ll see you later then, Kozume-san.”

Kenma heard the front door shut. His mother shuffled carefully towards the door and opened it slowly, peeking inside. He didn’t know what she was ever checking for, but it was an odd habit of hers that she’d had as long as he could remember. She walked in and shuffled across the floor to sit on the edge of the bed, placing a gentle hand on the pile of blankets.

“Kenma, sweetheart, please talk to me.” Kenma bit his lip, feeling guilty but too close to bursting into tears to answer her. “There has to be something I can do. Please?”

“There isn’t.” He managed, voice barely audible and breaking on every word. He curled further in on himself and allowed the tears to stream freely down his face. “It’s my fault.”

His mother didn’t say anything; just squeezed the heap gently and let him cry.

“Can you go please, mom? I just want to be alone.”

“Okay, baby. Let me know if you need anything.” She left as quietly as she had come, closing the door softly behind her.

“It’s my fault.” Kenma whispered into his sheets, wanting to sink into them and never have to feel this way again.

He felt like an idiot. _He_ was the one who’d broken up with Shouyou - he shouldn’t be allowed to feel this way. But he did. And he hated it. Shouyou had been different since high school ended – distant. His smiles had become a rarity and even then they’d felt fake, like he was putting on a brave face just for Kenma’s sake. He had seen it, the way the light in Shouyou’s eyes had drained away slowly, how miserable he’d been. But he hadn’t said a thing, hadn’t tried hard enough to stop it and now… Shouyou just wasn’t Shouyou anymore.

So he’d ended it. He’d ended a three-year relationship and it was so much more painful than he’d anticipated. He thought it would be easier – that he didn’t love Shouyou anymore, but that was only partly true. He didn’t love _this_ Shouyou. He couldn’t find it in himself to love this person that Shouyou had become, this person that was miserable and short tempered, that criticized him for every little thing. It hurt, but he couldn’t take it anymore. But now he couldn’t decide if he was more or less miserable than he was when they were still together. He couldn’t decide if he’d done the right thing.

He fell asleep like that, contemplating what he could’ve done differently. Wondering if it really was his fault, if it was selfish of him to break up with Shouyou after all. Kuro had sworn that he’d done the right thing – it had been over a year and Shouyou wasn’t getting any better; it was time to end it. But Shouyou was depressed - it wasn’t his fault. Maybe Kenma hadn’t been a good enough boyfriend. Surely if he’d been better, Shouyou wouldn’t have been depressed and none of this would have happened.

 

His sleep had been dreamless, more of an exhausted blackout than sleep really. He was awoken by a timid knock on the door. His mother poked her head in, an apologetic look on her face.

“Kenma? Shouyou called again. Do you want to speak to him?” Kenma shut his eyes again and shook his head. He didn’t want to talk to Shouyou. He didn’t have anything to say besides several apologies that, according to Kuro, he wasn’t owed. He didn’t even want to be alive if this was what living was like.

“Okay then, Tetsu-chan’s here. Do you want me to send him up?” Kenma didn’t say anything and his mother took it as an affirmative. He didn’t _not_ want Kuro here right now. He heard the familiar footsteps coming up the stairs and relaxed a bit. He hadn’t even realized he’d tensed up after what his mother had said.

“Ken-chaaan, your mom said you wanted to see me!” Kuro had a goofy grin on his face and way too much energy, but Kenma figured he was trying to make up for the lack thereof on Kenma’s end. Maybe Kuro was overdoing it a bit on the supportive friend thing, but Kenma was kind of grateful for it anyway.

“I didn’t exactly say _that_.” Kenma retaliated, but it had no real bite to it.

“Aw, Ken-chan, are you feeling better?”

“No.” Kuro plopped himself down on the bed and stretched out, causing one or two of his long limbs to flop over Kenma’s blanket heap.

“Ah, but you’re responding today, so I’m going to go with yes.” Kenma rolled his eyes but didn’t protest. He still felt shitty but it was nothing compared to the day he’d done it. “So, whatd’ya need?”

“Can you… just talk for a bit?” Kenma flushed, embarrassed at having asked but Kuro’s expression softened and Kenma feared that he may let a tear or two slip.

“Of course.”

Kuro talked for hours. He talked about Tsukishima and how much he was missing him because it was just before exam time and they were both studying too hard to take a train to see each other. He talked about the new noodle place that had just opened up near his house. He talked about how hectic his schedule was these days because, according to him, ‘Third year medicine is no joke Kenma.’ He talked about how Bokuto had just told him that his team was going to nationals for the second year in a row. He even talked about the cool leaf that he’d seen while walking over to Kenma’s after his lecture that afternoon.

“You know; your mom is quite the gossip when it comes down to it. She was telling me all about how Yagami-san’s daughter just dropped out of uni to run away with some guy she met three months ago. Crazy stuff. She didn’t get to finish the story though, because- “He stopped himself just as he was about to finish the sentence and looked apologetically at Kenma.

“Because Shouyou called again, right?” Kuro didn’t say anything, suddenly finding the back of his hand very interesting. “You don’t have to pretend for me.”

“I know, it’s just… I know it still hurts. Believe me, I know. When Tsukki broke up with me after high school, I thought my life was over. Luckily for me it was all just a misunderstanding, so it’s cool now but…” Kenma was giving him a look. “Sorry. I guess it’s a little different, huh?”

“Yeah… just a little.”

“Sorry.” Kenma sighed and rolled over onto his back to look at the ceiling.

“Maybe…” Kenma began listlessly.

“Kenma,” Kuro warned, obviously seeing where this was going. “Don’t do this to yourself.” Kenma ignored him and went on anyway.

“Maybe I should talk to him.” Kuro started to protest, “Just to tell him _why_ at least.” Kuro stopped short, looking over at him.

“You didn’t tell him why?” He asked seriously, more than a little surprised. Kenma paused.

“Not… exactly. How do you tell someone something like that? I couldn’t do it, I just… looked at him and I couldn’t do it.” Maybe it was because, just for a moment, he’d looked like the old Shouyou again. Kenma had looked at him and seen the boy he’d fallen in love with when he was seventeen. Kuro sighed and propped himself up on his elbow to look at Kenma directly.

“Look, as much as I dislike the guy,” Kenma rolled his eyes.

“He really wasn’t that bad.” Kuro gave him a pointed look before continuing.

“As much as I dislike the guy, you’re going to have to talk to him and tell him exactly why you did it. He probably feels shitty enough as it is – rightfully so, I might add – but if he doesn’t even know what he did wrong, he can’t ever get any better.” Kenma really hated it when he was right.

“Friday.” He promised, more to himself than to Kuro, but it seemed to appease his friend anyway as a bonus.

“Alright, now… How about a shower and some dinner?” Kenma was about to shut him down again but the look in Kuro’s eyes made him hesitate. “If not for yourself then for your mom. She worries you know.”

“Fine, but wipe that stupid look off your face. It makes me want to puke.” Kuro chuckled and stood up, smiling fondly at his friend.

“You love me Kenma and you know it.” Kenma let out a long, suffering sigh. He really hated it when Kuro was right.


	4. Chapter 4

“I don’t want to do this anymore…” Kei said softly, almost as if he were afraid someone would hear him. He didn’t know why - no-one was home. He knew that. He was all alone in the apartment, lying in the middle of his bed while he talked to his boyfriend. _Like a schoolgirl_ , he found himself thinking before being shocked back to reality by Kuroo's voice. 

“Tsukki… Are you sure?” Kuroo asked, the static over the phone and the background noise on his end almost drowning him out. Kei hated that. It reminded him of how far away Kuroo really was.          

“I never wanted this. Never. This is what my parents wanted. I’m sick and tired of doing what my parents want.” They were quiet for a while, only the sounds of cars rushing by on Kuroo’s end coloring the line. Kei couldn’t help inwardly cursing his own inability to just go through with something for once.

“… But what do _you_ want?” The question caught Kei a bit by surprise. It shouldn’t have, really; Kuroo was always so interested in what _Kei_ wanted. The problem was though, that Kuroo had always been the only one and when Kei was finally given the opportunity to choose… he didn’t know what he wanted.

“I don’t know...” He paused, thinking for a moment, “Not this. Anything but this.” Kuroo sighed.

“Alright, umm…” It was obvious neither of them knew what to say. It had been two years. Two years that Kei had wasted studying something he never wanted to do. “What about your parents?” Kei rolled his eyes before remembering that Kuroo couldn’t see him and settling instead for an irritated huff.

“What _about_ my parents?” The silence that ensued allowed Kei to conjure up an exact replica of the expression he was sure Kuroo was making right then.

“Won’t they be, y’know, mad? That you made them pay for two years of law school with absolutely no intention of following through with the career? Not to mention the fact that you have no idea what you want to do now. It’s like, every parent’s worst nightmare.” Kei chuckled drily.

“At least I’m not gay, right?” Kuroo snorted but caught himself at the last second and put his Serious Kuroo voice back on.

“Tsukki, please. Be serious. What do you want to do?” Kei was quiet for a long while before finally settling on a thought that had lingered far too long in the corner of his mind.

“… I want to be with you.” He heard Kuroo take a deep breath in and exhale a little shakily. Kei hoped he wouldn’t cry this time.

“You know I love you Tsukki, you know that right?” Kei hummed an affirmative, “And as much as I would love to have you by my side every second of every day,” God he could be so sappy sometimes, “I just don’t think that that is… a stable career choice, y’know?”

“I know that Kuroo, I just… don’t really know what to do. I can’t tell my parents anything, I hate what I’m studying, Yamaguchi is being all weird, I haven’t seen you in months, I just… don’t know what to do anymore.”

“I know, I know, just… Wait. What’s up with Yamaguchi?” Great. Leave it to Kuroo to latch onto the one thing he let slip accidentally.

“I don’t know. He’s… out all the time. From like nine in the morning to one in the morning the next day. The other day I asked him why and he told me it was because he was working and needed the money and then I asked him why again and he… snapped.”

“Snapped?”

“Yeah. Like, raised voice and everything.” Kuroo hummed in thought.

“Yamaguchi? Are you sure? Maybe an alien has invaded his body or something. I could ask Oikawa, he’s an expert on this kind of thing.” Kei found himself fighting back a smile. He bit his tongue and put on his Serious Kei voice before mimicking Kuroo’s earlier lecture.

“Kuroo, please. Be serious.” Kuroo snorted again.

“Jesus, can we not have one serious conversation?” Kei smiled and rolled over onto his side, squishing his warm phone against his cheek.

“Apparently not.” After a full five-minute silence, Kuroo finally said something.

“Yamaguchi will come around, don’t worry about it.” He paused, pulling his thoughts together, “We’ll figure something out about your studying situation, you need to talk to your parents and you’re getting on the first train to Tokyo tomorrow morning. Got it?” Kei smiled helplessly again.

“Got it.”

“I love you~” Kuroo sang.

“You’re an idiot.”

“But you love me anyway~”

“But I love you anyway.” Kuroo chuckled softly.

“Goodnight Tsukki.” He whispered. Neither of them hung up.

Kei fell asleep that night with his phone stuck to his cheek and a stupid grin on his face.

 

“Where are you going?” Kei felt like a little kid caught with his hand in the sweet jar as he turned around to see Yamaguchi leaning tiredly against the door frame of his bedroom. He had been stuffing clothes into an overnight bag when Yamaguchi walked in, having paused halfway through picking up another tee-shirt to look at his friend. He straightened up and cleared his throat.

“Kuroo’s.” He stated simply, turning around to continue packing in a gesture that he thought would declare the conversation over. Yamaguchi didn’t seem to agree.

“Why? For how long?” Kei didn’t bother turning around this time.

“What are you, my mother? I don’t fucking know Yamaguchi. I’ll be back when I’m back.” Yamaguchi walked into the room, taking a seat on Kei’s bed – right next to the clothes he was packing, where he was forced to look at him.

“Is this about the other night? Look, I’m sorry alright? I’m just… not ready to tell anyone yet.” Kei stopped packing briefly to look Yamaguchi in the eye.

“This isn’t about that. This is about me going to see a good friend of mine that I haven’t seen in a while, that’s all.” Kei hoped Yamaguchi didn’t notice the way his eyes had flicked away on the word _friend_. It was a well-kept secret. One he intended to _keep_ well-kept. Even from Yamaguchi.

“Fine, but to up and leave to Tokyo with no notice a week before your exams start? That’s excessive Tsukki. You’re avoiding me and if it’s not about the other night, then I want to know what it _is_ about.” Kei roughly stuffed another tee-shirt into his bag before zipping it and throwing it over his shoulder.

“I’m not having this conversation with you.” He hissed, trying to keep his composure as best he could as Yamaguchi stood up to try and stop him leaving.

“Yes, you are.” Yamaguchi grabbed Kei’s wrist as he started to walk away. It took the last of Kei’s composure to break his hand free and turn back to the other boy.

“Shut up, Yamaguchi! You don’t get to say that to me! You don’t know anything about me! This isn’t about you, okay? It’s about _me_. It’s for _me_. I’m not leaving to avoid you; I’m leaving because I want-” He paused. Now wasn’t the time. “You know what? That doesn’t matter. You don’t need to know. The only thing you _really_ need to know is that I’m leaving and I’ll be back when I feel like coming back. So, just leave me alone.” Kei shut his eyes, not wanting to look at his friend anymore. He knew the second the words had come out of his mouth that he’d gone too far, but he couldn’t take it back. He couldn’t take it back and he hated that it was true.

“Tsukki…” Yamaguchi began weakly. Kei took a deep breath and turned around.

“Goodbye Yamaguchi.”

 

”… What?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I was mad, okay? I know I messed up.” Kuroo raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as he continued running his long fingers through Kei’s hair. “Can we not talk about this?” Kei’s phone vibrated in his pocket for the third time since he’d walked into Kuroo’s apartment an hour before.

“Alright…” Kuroo said, but he left it open-ended, like he wanted to say something else. Kei sighed.

“What?”

“It’s just… Why haven’t you told him?” Kei frowned.

“Told him what?” Kuroo screwed up his face and gestured vaguely between them.

“About… you know.” Kei was still frowning. “This. Us.”

“Oh.” Kei’s phone vibrated again.

“Yeah…” Kei sighed.

“He’s just… really close with my parents and I’m just… afraid of what they might say? We haven’t really broached the subject before and it feels almost… too late. You know?” Kuroo hummed in understanding, shifting so that Kei could lay his head more comfortably on Kuroo’s lap.

“Yeah… I get it. You really should at least tell Yamaguchi though; I mean… He’s your best friend, right? I’m sure he won’t tell your parents unless you say it’s okay.” Kei glared up at him, “What?”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“Love you too, Tsukki.”

“You’re a nuisance.”

“But you _loooove_ me~” Kuroo batted his eyelashes and pouted his lips obnoxiously.

“How will I ever be able to explain this to Yamaguchi?” Kei sighed dramatically, putting the back of his hand against his forehead and looking off into the distance. “I used to have standards.”

“Hey, I’m a catch first of all and second of all, you never had standards. We’ve been dating for four years.”

“So you admit it then.” Kei teased. Kuroo leaned down and kissed him, lingering above him a little longer than was strictly necessary.

“I do not know how the great Tsukishima Kei deigned to grace me with his presence for so long.” Kei closed his eyes and sighed.

“It really has been very hard.” Kuroo kissed him again, a bit longer this time.

“Thank you, your highness. It’s been a pleasure.” Kei’s phone vibrated again.

“I’m sure it has. You’re welcome.” And again.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” The vibrating was getting annoying.

Kei pulled his phone out of his pocket and switched it off. Nothing was going to ruin this for him. Nothing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief description of a panic attack and mentions of past panic attacks. Shouyou really wasn't all bad. I ship Kuroken so hard platonically you have no idea. Kuroo is a sweetheart and, surprisingly enough, Tsukki is too. Enjoy! Any comments, Kudos or criticisms are welcome! (Also I'm really sorry for my messed up posting schedule, I will try to get the chapters out within a reasonable time in the future! Thank you)

Tetsurou woke to the sound of his phone vibrating on his bedside table. At two in the morning. He checked the caller ID and picked up immediately.

“Kenma? What’s the matter?” Tsukki stirred, mumbling something unintelligible in his sleep before rolling over and nuzzling closer to Tetsurou.

“Uhm, I…” Kenma’s voice broke and he was breathing heavily, his distress clear even over the phone.

“Okay, take a deep breath. It’s okay, I’m right here, okay? It’s okay.” He heard Kenma take a few shaky breaths before trying again.

“I’m sorry Kuro, I… I can’t do it. I-” Tetsurou bit his lip. This was the third panic attack that week.

“Okay, it’s okay Kenma. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Listen to me, okay? You’ll be fine.” He cooed, allowing Kenma to relax instead of asking the questions he so desperately wanted the answers for.

If Tetsurou knew anything, it was how to deal with a panic attack. Kenma’s weren’t as frequent as they used to be, but they still happened. Or, they hadn’t been as frequent until about a month ago.

“I’m coming over.”

“Isn’t Tsukishima there?” Kenma hiccupped, breathing still erratic but slower than it had been when Tetsurou had first answered.

“He is, but he’s old enough to stay by himself for a few hours. If you need me, I can be there in five.”

“… Thank you.” His voice sounded so small, so defeated.

“Alright, I’m coming.” Kenma hung up and Tetsurou looked down at Tsukki. He shook him gently, almost not wanting to wake him up.

“Tsukki,” He whispered, continuing his gentle shaking until Tsukki stirred again.

“Mmm? Kuroo? What’s wrong?” He asked, his words slurred from sleep.

“I’m going over to Kenma’s for a few hours, alright? Will you be okay here by yourself until I get back?” Tsukki sat up, rubbing at his eyes before turning to Tetsurou, all the sleepiness gone in an instant.

“Yes, of course. I’ll be fine. Is Kenma okay?” Tetsurou found himself smiling fondly at the boy in front of him – he’d grown so much as a person since they’d first met, it even surprised _him_ sometimes. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Tetsurou stood up and started pulling a pair of sweats on, “Kenma’s going to be just fine.” Tsukki visibly relaxed, sliding back down into the sheets and watching as Tetsurou gathered his things.

“Okay, let me know if you need anything. My phone’s on, so just call.” Tetsurou nodded and kissed Tsukki quickly on the forehead before heading out and all but sprinting to Kenma’s front door. He’d chosen the apartment building for its close proximity to both Kenma’s house and the university, and it was times like these that he fully appreciated that decision. Similarly, it was times like these that he was really grateful for the spare set of keys Kenma’s mother had given him when they were still in middle school and Kenma’s attacks were at their worst.

He was upstairs and opening Kenma’s bedroom door as soon as was physically possible, his breathing heavy and his heart pounding. But he was _there_ and that was all that mattered.

“Kenma? Kenma I’m here.” He said, careful not to startle his friend. Kenma sat in the center of his bed, eyes closed with his legs crossed. He was practicing the breathing exercises Tetsurou had taught him a few years ago when he’d realized that he wouldn’t always be there for Kenma when he needed him. _Thank God_ , he thought as he walked slowly over to the bed and sat down on the edge. The thought still scared him - that he couldn’t always be there - but they’d made it this far. Kenma was strong enough and Tetsurou knew it.

Kenma opened his eyes slowly, blinking at Tetsurou a few times before sighing and looking down at his folded hands.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t be. Why would you be sorry?”

“Because I… because-” He’d started again.

“No, it’s alright. Take your time, okay? I’m here for as long as you need me.” Kenma nodded and lay his head down on Tetsurou’s lap. “It’ll be just fine, I promise.”

 

“I really am sorry, Kuro.” Kenma whispered hours later as they lay together on his bed.

“You shouldn’t be. I wanted to be here.”

“Yeah, but you have Tsukishima over for the first time in months and… It was shitty of me.” Tetsurou turned his head to look properly at his friend.

“Listen to me Kenma. You needed me and no matter what that means, be it leaving Tsukki alone for a few hours or running across the ocean-”

“Pretty sure that’s not possible.” Tetsurou shot Kenma a pointed look before continuing.

“ _Running across the ocean_ – I _will_ be here when you need me.” He sighed, “Look, Tsukki… he can handle himself pretty well. You and I both know that. I’ll see him tomorrow and I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time together in the future, okay? You’re just going through a rough patch right now, which is normal and perfectly okay…” He trailed off, having lost his train of thought. “Umm…”

“I get it, it’s fine.” Kenma said softly, freeing Tetsurou from the responsibility of finishing the sentence.

“Yeah. So… I hate to ask this but… what exactly did you mean when you said you couldn’t do ‘it’ on the phone earlier?” Kenma stiffened just slightly.

“Oh, I… I don’t know if I can talk to Shouyou tomorrow. I know I said I would but I just… I don’t know what to say or what he’ll say or-”

“That’s okay.” Kenma stopped short to look at Tetsurou, “I still get nervous sometimes when I call _Tsukki_ even. You don’t _have_ to know everything, you don’t _have_ to be brave all the time, you don’t _have_ to talk to him tomorrow. Or… today, I guess. You do everything at your own pace and it’ll all work out, okay?”

Kenma smiled just slightly – the small smile he reserved for private moments like this – and relaxed again.

“Thanks Kuro.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Shouyou has a kind of... breakdown I guess near the end. The piano thing is up for interpretation but if you really don't get it I'd be happy to explain, so... sorry about this one. Shouyou really does mean well, he just isn't great at expressing himself, and neither is Kenma it seems. They will get it together eventually, it'll just take some healing on both sides to get there. Anyways, as always Kudos and comments are welcomed and very much appreciated! Thanks for reading and enjoy!

Shouyou’s phone started vibrating just as he got home and his heart sped up a little. He wouldn’t have bothered checking who was calling at all if that wasn’t… the exact time Kenma used to call him every day.

“Hello?” He started, hesitantly. He walked right past the kitchen and into his bedroom, knowing full well that this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have in front of his mother. “Kenma?”

“Uhm… Hi, Shouyou.” He fell onto his bed, a wave of relief hitting him harder than even he’d expected. It was Kenma’s voice. Kenma was speaking to him for the first time in weeks and he sounded okay. Shouyou felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off of his shoulders – Kenma was okay. Even if Shouyou wasn’t.

“I’ve missed you.” He blurted without thinking. It felt like it had been so long since he’d last heard Kenma’s voice and _God it sounded like home_. _It sounded like being able to breathe again_.

“Shouyou…”

“I’m sorry, it’s just… I’m glad to know you’re okay. I tried to-” Kenma sighed.

“I know. Listen, Shouyou, I need to talk to you about…” He paused, “About why I left.” And just like that, the air left his lungs again. Shouyou felt like he’d been punched. Kenma took a deep breath, “I want you to know.”

Suddenly Kenma sounded so far away, and Shouyou became aware once again of the distance between them. Shouyou became aware once again of his mistakes and the crushing weight of his own thoughts. _You fucked up. You fucked up and lost the only good thing in your life_. _Kenma’s gone and you might never see him again and… it’s your own damn fault._

“Okay.” Shouyou hoped he didn’t sound as choked up as he felt. His mouth was so dry, tears threatening to spill already.

“Okay, I… this is difficult to say, but I want you to hear me out because…” Kenma never finished that sentence, but Shouyou knew the silent _I love you_ ’s that Kenma dealt in. He just wished right then that he didn’t so desperately need to hear it out loud. Even if that meant it would be for the last time.

“Okay.” Shouyou said again, feeling like a broken record. There was nothing else he could say, so he listened.

Kenma talked a lot more than he usually would, but it seemed like he had a lot to say. Shouyou didn’t say anything, finding that for once, he didn’t _have_ anything to say. Shouyou had known for a long time that the way he’d been going wasn’t fair on Kenma. Kenma was patient and kind; he’d taken a lot of shit from Shouyou over the years, but everyone had a breaking point.

Shouyou closed his eyes.

 

“Shou? Shou are you listening to me?” Shouyou looked at his boyfriend and smiled. He knew Kenma could tell it was fake.

“Sorry, I got a little distracted.” Kenma frowned.

“You’ve been staring out the window for almost ten minutes.”

“Have I?” Kenma sighed and took Shouyou’s hand from across the table. The sun was in his eyes; Shouyou could tell by the way he was struggling to keep his eyes open properly. “Why are we here?”

The café was nice. Open and sunny, with floor-to-ceiling windows instead of walls. Pretty crowded too, especially for so late in the afternoon. Probably a pretty popular hangout. _Definitely not Kenma’s scene_.

“What do you mean?” Kenma’s tone was flat. He let go of Shouyou’s hand.

“You know exactly what I mean, Kenma.” Kenma looked down at his now retracted hands, picking at the skin around his fingernails. A few of his fingers were bleeding from where he’d picked the skin off. A habit Shouyou hadn’t seen in a long time.

“No, I don’t.” Shouyou stood up and slammed his hand down onto the table. Kenma flinched, but he didn’t say anything. A few people sitting at the surrounding tables turned to look at them.

“You hate it here. The sun is shining in your face and there are too many people and you haven’t looked at your phone once since we got here.” Kenma still wasn’t looking at him, “What are we doing here? Why are you doing this?”

“Please just sit down, Shouyou.” He said quietly, his eyes carefully avoiding both his boyfriend and the people around them.

“Not until you answer me!” Kenma flinched again.

“Sit down.”

“No.” Kenma nodded before standing up as well, placing some money on the table and walking out.

 

“You… You should’ve said something.” Shouyou felt realization wash over him, hitting him anew with every memory he reanalyzed.

“You were sad Shouyou, and there was nothing I could do about it.” Kenma’s voice was quiet and patient, like it always had been.

“You made me happy.” Kenma didn’t say anything for a while.

“No, I didn’t.”

 

“Kenma! Wait!” Kenma stopped but didn’t turn around. He knew he couldn’t outrun Shouyou.

“Leave me alone.” Shouyou took a few steps toward his boyfriend.

“Kenma, please. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to shout.” Kenma clenched his fists at his sides.

“Just… please leave me alone.” Shouyou took the few remaining steps toward Kenma and grabbed his wrist in a desperate attempt to get him to turn around.

“Kenma…” Kenma tried weakly to pull his arm away before turning around to face Shouyou.

“ _Please_ , Shouyou.” Shouyou dropped Kenma’s arm. Kenma’s face was red and streaked with tears.

“Kenma… I-” Kenma took a deep breath.

“I just wanted to make you happy.” Shouyou frowned.

“You do make me happy.” Kenma smiled sadly and shook his head, fresh tears falling down his cheeks.

“ _Shou… I-I can’t do this anymore. I… I’m sorry.”_

And then he was gone. Shouyou felt his entire world come crashing down around him as he watched Kenma walk away.

He’d made Kenma cry. In public. Kenma hated attention.

He wanted to go after him, to say something, _anything_ to make this better, but he felt frozen to the spot, forced to watch the best thing that had ever happened to him walk away.

_Shou… I-I can’t do this anymore. I… I’m sorry._

The words repeated themselves over and over in his mind until he was sure he would go crazy.

_Not him too…_

Somewhere in the distance he heard someone playing an off-tune piano.

“I’m so sorry Kenma. I messed up. I am so, so sorry.” Shouyou felt near hysterical. His mind was racing, thoughts and memories flashing through his head too quickly for him to keep up.

“I know. I’m sorry too.”

“How can I fix this? I want to fix this. Please…” Kenma was quiet for a long time.

“I... I don’t think you can. Not this time, Shou.” His voice sounded exactly like it had that day. It broke on the first word and remained broken. _You did this._

“Please Kenma, _please don’t leave me_. I love you so much Kenma, you have no idea. _Please_.” He was begging now, crying and begging over the phone for Kenma to take him back. _You must sound like a lunatic._

“Shouyou… please don’t. Please don’t do this to me, I… please.” He sounded so _tired_.

_You did this._

“I’m so sorry Kenma, I-”

“Goodbye, Shouyou.” _I love you_ _._


	7. Chapter 7

Four days. Four solid days and Tsukki still wasn’t home. Four solid days and Tsukki still wouldn’t answer any of Tadashi’s calls; well… the ones that didn’t go straight through to voicemail anyway. Tsukki’s phone was off more often than not when Tadashi tried to call his friend and every message he’d sent had gone unread.

_Maybe he just needs some time to think. Maybe…_

But four days? Four solid days without so much as a message to let Tadashi know that his best friend wasn’t _dead_? Lesser men may have broken by then, but Tadashi had known Tsukki for far too long to take _anything_ to heart straight away.

Still, he hadn’t slept right since their fight and it was starting to take its toll. He was sleepwalking through his work, falling into bed and tossing and turning for hours on end before finally falling into a distressed and dreamless sleep, only to be woken again by the alarm that signaled the start of one of his three jobs. His only saving grace were the visits with his mother, or the phone calls when he couldn’t come in because of work. She’d remembered him every time he’d visited or called that week. Honestly, if it weren’t for that, he wasn’t sure he would’ve made it through.

When day five rolled around though, Tadashi found himself woken up by a message notification hours before his alarm was supposed to go off. He almost dropped his phone in his haste as he scrambled to check the message.

**From: Tsukki**

**I’m okay. Still in Tokyo with Kuroo. I’ll be back on Wednesday.**

Just before he could reply though, a second message followed.

**From: Tsukki**

**Sorry.**

Tadashi almost screamed – from relief or frustration, he wasn’t sure. At least Tsukki wasn’t dead. He’d apologized too, so that was a bonus. Tadashi found himself staring at the message for far longer than necessary. Processing it? He didn’t know. He decided not to reply and went back to sleep.

 

Tsukki came home that Wednesday as promised, slinking into their apartment like a kid expecting punishment.

“Hey Tsukki, welcome home.” Tadashi decided to be civil. He was tired of fighting and more than hoping for an explanation.

“Hey.” Tsukki headed straight to his room, as expected. Surprisingly enough though, he came back out immediately after dropping his bag on his bed. Once again, full of surprises.

“Something wrong?” Tadashi asked, looking up at his friend from his spot on the couch.

“I have to tell you something.” The statement caught Tadashi entirely off guard.

“Okay…” Tadashi prompted. He really wasn’t sure what to expect. An explanation maybe?

Tsukki took a deep breath, seemingly steeling himself. Tadashi made an effort to do the same.

“I’m gay.”

Tadashi’s jaw dropped. Tsukki avoided eye contact, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. As soon as he’d fully recovered from the shock, Tadashi found himself fighting off a fit of giggles. Tsukki’s eyes locked back onto him, clearly as surprised by Tadashi’s sudden outburst as Tadashi was.

“What’s so funny?” Tsukki huffed. Tadashi took a few deep breaths to compose himself before smiling brightly at his best friend.

“Well, I knew that already. I was just a little surprised by the sudden confession is all.” He assured, the tension melting out of him.

“What?”

“It was kind of obvious,” He thought about it for a second before continuing, “Or rather, your crush on Kuroo-san was obvious.” Tsukki flushed, looking as if he wanted to melt away. Tadashi chuckled, “You were practically _obsessed_ with him in high school.”

“I was not.” Tsukki insisted, folding his arms over his chest. The blush on his face gave him away though.

“Oh my god, you two were texting back and forth _all the time_. It was quite cute actually.” Tsukki’s blush intensified. Tadashi paused and took a moment to smile at his best friend, “Thank you.”

“What for?” Tsukki asked, clearly confused. Tadashi kept smiling.

“I’m just really glad you told me. I was starting to think that you never would.” Tsukki opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but decided against it last second. Perhaps he thought there wasn’t anything to say. “Thank you for trusting me, Tsukki.”

 

“So… you and Kuroo-san _are_ going out right?” Tsukki closed his eyes exasperatedly and nodded. “For how long?”

The question took Tsukki a little by surprise, evidently. He put his book down and looked up at the ceiling for a moment before looking over at Tadashi.

“Uhm… Four years? Or more like… A little less than four, technically.” Tadashi nearly spit out his tea.

“ _Four_ _years_?” Tsukki nodded again.

“Yeah, just about.”

“Wow.” Tadashi breathed, “I never had you pegged for the long-term relationship type.”

“Yeah, neither did I.”

 

“Do his parents know?” Tsukki paused the movie they were watching to look pointedly at Tadashi, but sighed and answered anyway once he’d determined that his friend wouldn’t continue on without an answer.

“Well, yeah. He told them almost as soon as we’d gotten together, actually.” Tadashi smiled.

“That’s really sweet. Do you see them when you visit?” Tsukki inhaled sharply and closed his eyes.

“Not anymore.” Tadashi didn’t say anything, so he continued. “His mom, uh… she died two years ago. Car accident. His dad never really got over it, so he moved to Osaka about a year ago. Couldn’t live alone anymore, I guess.”

“Oh… that’s really sad.” Tsukki looked down at his folded hands.

“Yeah.”

“Did you… were you close with his family?” He’d never seen Tsukki so… despondent.

“You could say that.”

“So, were you…?”

“Yeah. I was… around. When it happened.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Not for me anyway.”

 

“Tsukki?”

“Yeah?”

“I have something to tell you.”

 

Four years. It had been four years since his mother had been diagnosed. Early-onset Alzheimer’s at the age of forty-seven. It had progressed quite quickly too, to the point where he’d been told she’d need around-the-clock care by age fifty. They’d been almost right – she was fifty-one. Some days were better than others. Every day was hard.

Tadashi worked three jobs - mornings in a café three streets down from their apartment, late afternoons at Nakamura-san’s arts and crafts store on the same street and nights at Sasaki-san’s bar two streets down from the others. Depending on the day, he could be working all three or none at all.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tadashi wondered if Tsukki saw the irony in asking him something like that.

“Lots of reasons,” Tsukki didn’t say anything, clearly expecting Tadashi to elaborate. “Uhm… I guess because I didn’t want you to feel obligated to help me. You were studying and I wasn’t. I had time and it wasn’t your responsibility.”

“There’s nothing wrong with help.” Tadashi shrugged.

“She’s my mom, nobody else’s.” Tsukki sighed and stirred his drink, looking out of the floor-to-ceiling window of the café as he spoke.

“How long are you going to keep doing this?”

“Doing what?” Tsukki gestured vaguely towards Tadashi with a flick of his wrist as he turned his head back to look at his friend.

“ _This_. The whole…” He attempted to imitate someone exaggeratedly… Tadashi probably. “ _I have to take everything on myself because I’m not worth the trouble_ – thing.” Tadashi looked down.

“I’m not.”

“ _Bullshit!_ You can’t go through life with that mindset Yamaguchi; you’ll end up stuck somewhere with nobody to bail you out.” Tsukki softened a little, “You don’t have to do everything alone.”

“Yeah, I guess not.”

“There are a lot of people who care about you, Yamaguchi; you just have to let them.”

Tadashi thought about it – he had his mom, he had Tsukki, he had Nakamura-san and Sasaki-san, he had some of his old high school friends that he was still close to.

He smiled. Sometimes even he felt worth something.

“Thanks Tsukki.”


	8. Chapter 8

Kenma’s room was dark, curtains having been drawn to keep the sunlight out. Kenma didn’t know how long it had been – four days, maybe five – but Shouyou’s voice still rang loud and clear in his mind.

_Please don’t leave me._

It hurt to think about. He sounded so desperate…

Just what had Kenma been to him? A last hope? A solitary ray of sunshine in the dark world? Shouyou had been that to Kenma once, years ago. When Shouyou’s smiles were genuine. In the days when Kenma hadn’t had to watch the boy he loved fall to pieces in front of him.

_How can I fix this?_

If there was a way, Kenma would surely have told him. It didn’t seem possible now. Perhaps in a world where Shouyou had gotten to continue playing volleyball. Or in a world where Kenma had meant more to him than playing.

The door creaked open and Kenma squinted at the light flooding in from the hallway.

“What time is it?” Kenma asked, flopping onto his back to avoid the light as Kuro closed the door behind him.

“Half past three in the afternoon.” Kuro pulled up a chair and sat down, “Why didn’t you call me?”

“There was nothing you could’ve done. What day is it?”

“Wednesday.” Kuro’s voice broke and he cleared his throat to try and cover it up.

So, it had been five days then.

“What’s the matter with you?” Kuro leaned forward in his chair and rested his head in his hands.

“I had to find out from your mom, Kenma. She said… she said that you won’t eat. I called you and you… you told me everything was fine. You _lied_ to me Kenma. _Why_?” Kenma felt his chest tighten even more at his friend’s distress. He hadn’t meant to hurt Kuro.

_Not him too…_

“I didn’t want to worry you.” His voice sounded small, even to him. Not convincing. Not enough anyway. Kuro was no fool and Kenma wasn’t either.

“And? Did you think that I’d never find out? That you could waste away by yourself in this bedroom and I’d never think to come and see you? That you could keep _lying_ to me?” Kenma grimaced, hating the way Kuro’s voice would crack on every other word as if he were on the verge of tears.

“I… I just thought…”

“What?”

“That I could get better.” He didn’t know why Kuro was so upset, nor why he cared so much to begin with, but he did and Kenma had known deep down that those simple words were words he couldn’t take back.

_I’m fine, Kuro. Really._

That’s what he’d said. The lie that sat on his tongue for days, that perhaps would have stayed longer had Kuro not come to see him.

Maybe that had been selfish of him too. He knew that Kuro cared too much, that a lie like that would hurt him if he found out the truth. But Kenma had wanted that to be true – he’d hoped that by the time Kuro came around again his lie would be true.

“But you don’t have to do that alone Kenma, you know that right?” Kenma nodded. He did. Kenma hadn’t been alone since he’d met Kuro and he doubted that he ever would be again. But something in him had prevented him from seeking Kuro’s help that day. Something… “What happened?”

He told Kuro the truth that time. Well… the truth save a few things.

_Please don’t leave me._

Those words were to haunt him and him alone. He couldn’t tell Kuro about that. He told Kuro as much as he could manage, but he could never tell Kuro that.

Kuro didn’t say anything when Kenma finished, nor did he say anything when Kenma started crying. He felt pathetic as the tears streamed down his face – he had no right to cry, not when Shouyou probably felt it so much worse.

Kuro crawled onto the bed and held his friend through it, not saying a word. Kenma was grateful for it – that he had Kuro, if nothing else.

He hoped that Kuro knew, even if he couldn’t say it aloud. He hoped that Kuro knew how much this meant to him, how much he needed this. The _thank yous_ were silent, as they usually were, but Kenma hoped more than anything that Kuro could hear them this time.

 

Kenma woke up alone in his bed, curtains still drawn.

“How is he?” His mother’s muffled voice inquired. Ever the worrier.

“Better, I think. He just needed to get some things out…” Kuro paused, “It’ll probably be a while.”

His mother sighed knowingly, “Ah, well first loves aren’t so easily forgotten. Thank you, Testu-chan.”

“Not at all. If it’s alright though I’d… I’d like to spend the night with him here. To make sure he’s alright.”

“Yes, of course. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

“Thank you, Kozume-san.”

 

“What did he say?” Kuro asked out of the blue. He was studying while Kenma attempted a game that his heart wasn’t really in.

“What do you mean?” Deadpan, as always. He hated himself for that sometimes. He paused his game.

“I mean, what did he _really_ say to you?” Kuro didn’t look up from his book – biology, maybe. The book was blue. Kenma had always associated the color blue with biology for some reason - a memory he could never quite place.

“I told you what he said to me.” Kuro closed the book to look up at his friend. Kenma looked at the cover fleetingly. Biochemistry. _Close enough._

“Mmm, but you left something out. Something that’s been bothering you.” Kuro’s eyes were intrusive, familiar but always searching. Kenma wondered if Kuro had ever found what he was looking for in Kenma’s own eyes. He doubted it, somehow.

“If I left something out, I left it out for a reason.” Never a liar, forever a teller of half-truths. Or things that were not yet true.

“I’m sure… how many have you lost?”

“What?” Kuro gestured vaguely towards the TV.

_What was I playing?_

“You’ve been on that same level for three hours.”

“It’s a hard level.”

“Which game?” Kenma didn’t answer. “Thought so.”

“And?”

“And… I’m worried about you.” Kenma shifted under his friend’s gaze, “Maybe that’s stupid Kenma, but maybe you’re not telling me something. Something more important than you’re making it out to be.”

And maybe Kuro was right. Maybe Kenma was telling himself half-truths as well.

“It hurts to think about.”

“I know it does. I know-” He began, stopped abruptly by Kenma’s usually soft and unobtrusive voice, now louder and more telling.

“He begged me not to leave.” Kuro fell silent, the shift of his eyes off of Kenma was more telling than the look on his face, but Kenma continued.

Kenma didn’t stop that time. He told the truth save _nothing_. And Kuro didn’t say anything because Kuro could hear him this time, for better or for worse.

Maybe it was better that way. He certainly _felt_ better. It felt good to admit things – both to Kuro and to himself.

Maybe things could get better. Maybe he could tell Shouyou the truth too. Maybe there _was_ a way to fix things.

_Maybe then…_


	9. Chapter 9

Yamaguchi had taken Kei to see his mother. She’d been weak – clearly sick, clearly dying. Maybe Kei finally understood why Yamaguchi had kept it a secret for so long – the visit had seemed so private, so intimate that Kei had felt almost as if he were intruding. Maybe he had been, in a way.

He’d had to introduce himself again – she hadn’t remembered him that time. Yamaguchi had told him that it was something he went through from day to day – wondering whether or not his own mother would remember who he was.

Kei had remained silent most of the visit, watching his friend interact with his dying mother as if their time wasn’t so terribly limited. As if there was nothing strange about chatting about girls with your mother in a home full of the sick and dying. It was hard to watch Yamaguchi smile so brightly at his mother one moment and visibly crumble the second she looked away.

Had he always done that? Did he do that when he thought Kei wasn’t looking? How long had it been since Yamaguchi’s characteristic blinding smiles had been genuine? Had they ever been?

Maybe it had been wrong of Kei to want to be let in on something so… private. Maybe he should have supported Yamaguchi from the sidelines. Maybe this was wrong. _It felt so_ _wrong_.

Yamaguchi was a constant, an unconditional constant in Kei’s life. What had Kei ever been in return? Had Yamaguchi suffered alone all this time, while Kei had been nothing but cold and cruel to his best friend?

Kei’s mind had raced with these thoughts as he watched the scene unfold before him – Yamaguchi smiling and talking like he wasn’t falling to pieces where he sat. Yamaguchi putting everyone before himself, like he always did. Yamaguchi being… Yamaguchi. It was almost… _heartbreaking_ – that was the word his mind supplied anyway. He’d wanted it to go away, but it didn’t. It stuck, it felt _true_.

Kei looked down at his hands, folded neatly in his lap. He looked up at Yamaguchi, staring out at nothing through the train window.

 _Heartbreaking_.

“You do this every day?” Kei asked. They were on the train back from Miyagi Heights. It was late afternoon, just before four p.m. and the train car was crowded. Still, Kei could hear the sounds of the train, the occasional quiet conversations, the tapping of fingers on phone screens. _The sounds of life_ , he found himself thinking, _not like in that place. Where the silence sounded like death._

“Almost. Some days I can’t make it because of work.” Yamaguchi’s tone was casual, light even. As if he were talking about the weather, or a strange-looking rock he’d seen somewhere.

“Aren’t you… tired?” Yamaguchi stared ahead, looking right past the middle-aged woman in the seat opposite.

“Tired?” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Maybe. I don’t think I have time to be tired.”

Kei didn’t know how to answer that, so he didn’t. It seemed true enough – sometimes Kei felt that his tiredness was a luxury. An entirely undeserved luxury.

The rest of the train ride was filled with the unique silence that came with living – the silence that was never quite _silent_.

 

He was crying. He knew it, Kuroo knew it and Yamaguchi probably knew it too.

“This is pathetic. I shouldn’t be crying.” He wiped roughly at his face, dislocating his glasses in the process.

“What brought you to that conclusion?” Kuroo’s voice was soft, soothing, barely audible above the sound of Yamaguchi’s shower being turned on and rustling bedsheets on Kuroo’s end.

“ _My_ mother isn’t _dying,_ Kuroo. _I’m_ not an orphan.”

“Neither is he.”

“He might as well be!” Kei was momentarily startled by his own outburst before what he’d just said finally settled in. Kuroo remained silent. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like-”

“It’s okay. I know what you meant. You’re upset and you need time to process everything. I get it, Tsukki. Don’t worry about it.” But he would. He had to. What he’d said, however accidental, struck a personal chord with Kuroo and they both knew it.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, I… I have to go, though. Kenma just woke up.”

“Tetsu…”

“I love you, Tsukki. Night.”

 

“Does… does your dad know?” Yamaguchi looked up at Kei over his bowl of cereal.

“Of course, he didn’t leave for nothing.” Kei nodded and continued to poke at his cereal with his spoon. “Hey, did… is everything okay?” Yamaguchi’s concerned voice broke through his thoughts and brought him back to reality.

“Hmm? Yes, why?”

“You seemed… off. Yesterday. After… after we got home and,” He wasn’t looking at Kei as he spoke, opting rather to let his eyes flit around the room or fix onto his cereal for a few seconds, “And your phone call with Kuroo-san wasn’t as long as usual. You were asleep when I finished showering, so I… I just thought that, uhm…”

“I’m fine, Yamaguchi. Everything is fine.”

“Are you sure? Because if it was-” Kei stood up and put his full bowl of cereal in the washbasin.

“I am fine. I just said something stupid to Kuroo last night because I was tired and I just need… I just need you to not worry about me right now.” His hands gripped the side of the counter hard enough to make his knuckles go white. He wasn’t quite sure why. Perhaps it was because he felt he would fall over otherwise, or perhaps it was because he felt he would fall apart.

“Alright, I’ll… I’ll see you later then. Are you going to class today?” The question was tentative but Kei felt something in him break.

“No.” Yamaguchi stood up as well, leaving his empty bowl on the table and pushing his chair in.

“Alright…” He hesitated before grabbing his jacket and backpack. “You’ll call me if you need anything, right? I have my phone-”

“Please… just leave, Yamaguchi. You’ll be late.”

“Alright. Bye… Tsukki.” He left it open-ended, like he meant for Kei to reply, but Kei left it unanswered. Yamaguchi looked back one last time before he shut the door quietly behind him.

“ _Fuck_ …” Kei whispered, once he was sure Yamaguchi was gone. He was crying again. He knew it, and this time he was sure Yamaguchi did too.


	10. Chapter 10

Tetsurou was tired. He felt almost guilty, as if that was a selfish thing to be. Even as he lay awake in Kenma’s bed, exhaustion blurring the words of his textbook together, he felt as if tired was something he shouldn’t have been. An undeserved luxury.

Tetsurou couldn’t sleep. He was being ridiculous, he knew, but every time he closed his eyes…

Maybe it was that he was afraid that he would wake up and Kenma wouldn’t be in the bed next to him anymore, or maybe…

Maybe it was that he was afraid that Kenma _would_ be in the bed next to him. That he would still be in Kenma’s bed. That Kenma would still be sad and that Tetsurou would still be completely helpless.

He finally shut his book at around three in the morning, realizing that no amount of staring would make the mess of black smudges and blurry diagrams make sense. Kenma was curled up next to him in the fetal position, small body wrapped firmly around a pillow, tears still staining his face. These were the times when Tetsurou was sure his tiredness was selfish – when Kenma needed him and all he was, all he could be, was tired.

But still, Tetsurou couldn’t sleep.

 

 “You gotta eat something today, Kenma.” Tetsurou said, setting Kenma’s dinner down on his bedside table next to his untouched lunch.

“Not hungry.” The sheets grumbled. Tetsurou sighed and sat down in the chair that had become a permanent fixture next to Kenma’s bed.

“Yeah, well I know _that_. I’m sure your _mortal shell_ would appreciate some nourishment though.”

Kenma ignored him.

‘’You look like shit.” He said instead. There was no bite to it, it was simply a statement of fact – monotone and careless.

“Thank you.” Tetsurou stood up, defeated and ready to take Kenma’s leftover lunch to the kitchen.

 He already had his hand on the door handle when his friend’s soft voice stopped him halfway.

“You can leave, you know.” Again, a mere statement of fact. _Monotone and careless_.

Tetsurou didn’t turn around.

“No, Kenma. I don’t know.”

 

Tetsurou sighed and sunk further into the pillows of Kenma’s bed. Kenma was asleep and Tetsurou was all but whispering, both because he didn’t want to wake Kenma and because he didn’t want Kenma to overhear the conversation.

“Stop apologizing, it was an honest mistake.” It had been a few days since that conversation and Tetsurou really did just wish that Tsukki would stop. If anything, the apologizing was just making him feel worse.

_But I won’t tell him that. He doesn’t need to know that._

“I know, I just… I really didn’t mean to imply-”

“That I’m technically an orphan?” Tsukki inhaled sharply but didn’t say anything, “So what if I am? Who cares?” He sounded desperate, on edge.

Unconvinced.

Tsukki sighed and replied softly, his tone sad and tired.

 “ _You_ do.”

Tetsurou really wished he wouldn’t do that.

 

So what if his dad ran away? So what if he left Tetsurou all alone when he needed him most? It didn’t matter. Not anymore.

Tetsurou was different now, stronger. He didn’t need anyone.

“You cried yourself to sleep again last night.” Kenma didn’t look up from his game. He was stating a fact.

“So did you. You do that all the time.” He wouldn’t deny it. If Kenma had noticed there was no point in trying.

“Yeah, but I’m not trying to hide it.” Tetsurou didn’t reply. “Why?”

“No reason. Just stressed about exams, probably.” Too defensive. Kenma would notice.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

He paused.

“I’d tell the truth if I knew what the truth was.”

 

“I wanted to talk to him again.” Kenma said one night. It was well past midnight, completely silent save for their breathing and the sounds of shifting sheets now and then. They were both awake, though Tetsurou wondered how Kenma had known that.

“Shouyou?” He heard the sheets shift.

“Yeah.” Kenma was looking up at the ceiling, his hands reaching up for something – as if he could capture the stars if the ceiling weren’t in the way. He returned his empty hands to his sides.

“So, why don’t you?” The question stayed up in the air for a few moments, like Kenma was busy trying to figure that out for himself. Maybe he was.

“I thought… there was a moment when I thought that I could. When I thought that I could speak to him and everything would work out and-” He sighed, hesitant to finish the thought.

“And?”

“And then things would go back to the way that they were.” He sounded defeated, like he knew already that that was impossible.

Or that he didn’t really want things to go back to the way that they were.

“Before the breakup, or before he graduated?”

“Before…” He seemed sure of his answer but unsure of whether or not to say it out loud. “I don’t know.”

“Ah.” Kenma brought his hands together and intertwined his fingers, having finished mourning their emptiness.

“I thought that’s what I wanted – to go back to the way things were. But now… now I’m not sure.”

“If that’s what you want?”

“Well, yes… but also if that was ever possible in the first place. Maybe I was just being idealistic.” Tetsurou turned over onto his side so that he could face his friend properly.

“You love him, don’t you?” Kenma didn’t hesitate for a second with his answer this time.

“Yes.”

“Then just wanting to be with him isn’t idealistic.” Kenma looked like he wanted to argue but ultimately decided against it, “I think that you have to understand that you’re both different people now than you were in high school. He’s not sunshine Shouyou anymore, but if you really do love him you should try to get to know him and love him the way he is _now_ , however difficult that may seem. I know for a fact that he still loves you.”

Kenma let out a breathy laugh, his hair falling into his face as he turned his head on the pillow to face Tetsurou.

“I thought you hated him.” Tetsurou frowned.

“I didn’t _hate_ him. Hate is a strong word, Kenma. I _will_ say that I… _disagreed_ with the way he’d been treating you.” Kenma scoffed but didn’t say anything, “But… I do know love when I see it and he definitely did love you, for better or for worse. Plus, he isn’t a bad guy really; he just needs to find himself, I think. Find out who he is now that he doesn’t have volleyball anymore. I think you could help him get there.”

Kenma raised his eyebrows.

“Wow. That was… actually really helpful.”

“You’re horrible to me.”

“Yeah.”

 

Tetsurou hadn’t been home in almost two weeks – his one-night stay at Kenma’s had quickly turned into three and then escalated from there. He didn’t know what it was, but something kept him there. Maybe concern for Kenma, maybe something else.

_I don’t want to be alone anymore._

He brushed the thought aside as he walked through his apartment. It felt empty, abandoned. The water and lights had been cut off two days before but Tetsurou couldn’t find it in himself to be bothered enough to get them switched back on. Every surface was collecting dust to the point where his fingertips went black after running them over one of the shelves.

 It didn’t feel like home anymore, but then again neither did Kenma’s place. Nowhere felt like home anymore.

Grey late afternoon light was filtering through the blinds, illuminating the rooms of the apartment just enough for him to see where he was going. He needed clothes – it was getting colder and the tee-shirts he’d packed in his overnight bag were no longer cutting it. He felt almost as if he were rummaging through a stranger’s drawers, walking through a stranger’s home. _Living a stranger’s life_.

Maybe that was ridiculous. Maybe he was being ridiculous. He just felt… lost. Helpless.

Useless.

Kenma didn’t need him anymore – he knew what he had to do and now he just had to do it. Tetsurou was obsolete.

He should just go back home, continue on with his own life. What point was there in staying with Kenma anymore? He’d done all he needed to do. He’d fulfilled his duty as a best friend. Kenma was going to be fine and he and Shouyou were going to be happy together again and… well, Tetsurou had Tsukki.

But Tsukki just wasn’t there. Tsukki wasn’t as concrete as Kenma was and Tsukki didn’t need Tetsurou the way Kenma did – or… used to. That was fine though, wasn’t it? Tetsurou could go back to the way things used to be – just him in his apartment, with phone calls from Tsukki and visits to Kenma’s place…

So what was he afraid of?

That his bed would feel cold without anyone in it. That his apartment would feel empty if it was just him. That he would be lonely. That he would be all alone again.

_I don’t want to be alone anymore._


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand the start of the resolution! The start of the happy ending if you will.  
> Your comments give me life and thank you as always for doing that for me!  
> Enjoy the (slightly happier I hope) chapter! Comments, Kudo's and criticisms welcome! Thanks for reading!

Shouyou sat on the evening bus back from town, tapping absently on his phone screen as he waited for Kenma to reply. He looked out the window – it was snowing and cold enough for his breath to be seen even as he sat in a bus full of people, but the trees were white and a thin blanket of undisturbed snow covered the ground. It was beautiful.

**From: Kenma**

**There’s this movie I’ve been wanting to see and Kuro is busy with exams, so would you like to see it with me some time?**

Shouyou was about to reply when a second message quickly followed.

**From: Kenma**

**You don’t have to if you don’t want to.**

Shouyou stopped short for a second before tapping out his reply.

**To: Kenma**

**Do you?**

Kenma didn’t reply immediately. Shouyou’s leg was bouncing almost uncontrollably in anticipation as he stared at his screen waiting for an answer, earning him a death stare from the woman sitting next to him. He almost dropped his phone when it buzzed with a reply.

**From: Kenma**

**Yes.**

Shouyou smiled to himself. Kenma wanted to see him. Kenma was talking to him. Kenma was…

**To: Kenma**

**I’d love to.**

 

“I’m home!” Shouyou called, taking off his shoes and heading to the kitchen to pack the groceries away.

“How was work?” His mother asked, not looking up from what she was cooking. She’d cooked enough for three people but only had two plates out. Shouyou felt a little guilty at the sight.

“Good.” He said, finishing up with the groceries. He tugged at the hem of his shirt a bit.

His mother looked up, a look of thinly-veiled surprise on her face.

“It was?” She asked tentatively, quickly looking back at the pot and stirring it.

“Yeah, it was. How was your day?” He leaned against the counter, wiggling his toes as he waited for a reply.

“Uh… good, thank you Shouyou.” She looked about ready to fall over in surprise, but the smile that lit her features let Shouyou know that it was definitely the good kind.

“That’s good.” His mother looked up again, slightly more hesitantly than before.

“Would… Are you-?” She gestured lightly toward the food, trying desperately to seem less hopeful than she actually was. Shouyou’s chest tightened a bit.

“Oh… yeah. I’ll uh… I think I’ll join you for dinner today.”

She continued beaming at him even as he scooted past her to get to his bedroom to change. Then, when she probably thought he couldn’t hear her anymore he heard a faint whisper of, “Thank you, Shouyou.”

 

“Okay, so let me get a few things straight.” Natsu said loudly as she burst into his room that night. She was still in her slightly dishevelled school clothes, as she had been at dinner, even though it was bordering on nine p.m.

Their mother was probably asleep.

“At least knock.”

She rolled her eyes and plopped herself down on his bed, promptly blowing at the fluffy orange tufts of hair that fell into her eyes.

“Not when I’m at least half sure that the real Shouyou has been abducted by aliens and replaced with a slightly more obedient clone.” Shouyou snorted.

“That’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think?” Natsu leaned forward, lowering her voice just the slightest bit.

“Our mother doesn’t seem to think so. She was crying happy tears while doing the dishes.” Shouyou felt another sting of guilt.

“Yeah, well.”

“So?” Natsu looked up at him expectantly, wiggling her eyebrows for effect.

“So what?”

“Oh, come on Shouyou. You know exactly what.” He did. He knew exactly what she wanted to know – the very same thing that had him smiling at his phone on the bus ride home and consequently caused him to miss his stop. He’d walked the two blocks home in the snow with a smile on his face.

“And so do you, but I’ll tell you anyway.”

“You’d better.” Shouyou glanced quickly at his phone, a small smile creeping its way onto his face even just at the thought.

“Kenma called last night…”

“Oh my god. What did he say?”

 

“Uhm… Hey Shouyou.” Kenma’s voice was soft, almost a whisper as he spoke. Shouyou’s hands were shaking a bit. They had been since he’d answered the phone.

“Hey.” He said, frustrated at how breathless and desperate he sounded.

“I… I don’t really know how to say this, but I just wanted…” He paused, collecting his thoughts, “I miss talking to you, so I-”

“You do?” The words were out of his mouth before he could even think to stop himself. Kenma seemed surprised too, momentarily left speechless by Shouyou’s outburst. Shouyou held his breath until Kenma spoke again.

 “I do. Of course I do, I…” _I love you_.

Or not.

Shouyou wondered if that was wishful thinking, if perhaps his brain was so used to automatically finishing that sentence that he’d deluded himself into thinking it might still be true. That it might be…

“It’s okay, Kenma. I get it.”

Kenma sighed. There was nothing else to say to that and he knew it.

“I just… wanted to talk to you again.”

Shouyou wondered why, what had brought this on after so much time. Every minute really did feel like forever, but that was his fault.

_All your fault._

“Like before?” The question was loaded, Shouyou knew. Loaded with things neither of them would say out loud, but that they were both certainly thinking.

“I… no, it’s – well, it’s more like-”

“Starting over?”

Maybe those were the wrong words. There was no starting over – they weren’t seventeen anymore. There was no taking back what happened, not for every apology Shouyou could ever utter.

“Not… not quite. More like getting to know each other again.” Shouyou could almost hear Kenma’s embarrassed blush on the other side of the phone. He liked to think he knew that at least.

“So… like friends?” Kenma let out a relieved breath Shouyou didn’t know he’d been holding.

“Yes. Like friends.” Shouyou thought about it for a moment.

“I can do that. I think… I think we can do that.”

Shouyou was sure he could hear Kenma’s small, private smile as he spoke again.

“So do I.”

 

“We spoke for a while after that too, but those were the important bits.”

“So you’re…?”

“Friends.” Natsu nodded a bit to herself, as if letting the information sink in.

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you… okay? With being just friends?”

Shouyou had definitely thought about it. He’d been awake in bed for hours the previous night thinking about it. Being friends… it was better than nothing at all, certainly. If that was what Kenma wanted, Shouyou would try his very best to give that to him. He owed Kenma that much at least, after everything.

_After everything you put him through._

“I think so. I think it’s more that I just want to be around him, no matter what that means.” Natsu nodded again.

“And you’re okay now?”

Shouyou was quiet for a while. _That_ he hadn’t thought about.

“I don’t know.” He answered truthfully.

He was almost sure that he’d forgotten what that felt like. To be okay. To really be _okay_.

Natsu smiled.

“That’s okay too.”

 

The piano was quieter after that. Shouyou could hardly hear it most of the time, but sometimes… sometimes it would play too loudly for him to even hear himself think.

“Mom?”

“Yes Shouyou?”

“I think… I think I need some help.”


	12. Chapter 12

Tadashi would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried and feeling at least a little bit guilty. Tsukki hadn’t left the apartment in days. Probably around three or more, but Tadashi couldn’t be sure – he wasn’t home all that often; certainly not often enough to accurately keep track of his best friend’s comings and goings.

He wanted to believe that it wasn’t his fault; that he hadn’t been wrong in confiding in his best friend but… Tsukki hadn’t been himself. He hadn’t been himself for _months_ actually, but now he was like a ghost – roaming the apartment like he didn’t belong there, refusing to go to school and barely eating. His face was gaunt and pale and his gaze was distant, like he was never really _there_ when they spoke to one another. He was like an apparition that haunted Tadashi in waking and sleeping, reminding him of his mistakes and breathing cold air into every room he entered.

_I shouldn’t have told him._

Tadashi felt that thought ring true in his own mind. Nothing had felt so true in years and Tadashi hated that more than anything.

 

“Are you… going to tell your parents anytime soon?” Tadashi asked as they sat together for dinner one evening. Tadashi had cooked – enough for two people, though he’d known only one would be eating that night.

Tsukki pushed the rice around his bowl, disinterested and barely registering Tadashi’s words.

“Tell them what?”

 _Anything_ , Tadashi’s mind screamed as he looked across the table at his best friend, _anything at all._

“Uhm, I don’t know. About school? About why you didn’t take your exams?” Tsukki looked up briefly as Tadashi spoke, but ultimately remained completely silent.

Tadashi looked down at his own bowl of rice – half eaten and almost cold. He suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore.

“About Kuroo-san?” The suggestion was quiet, tentative.

He heard Tsukki’s chair scrape across the floor as it was pushed quickly backwards.

“I’m not talking about this.”

“Tsukki-”

“No.”

 

It had been a while – Tsukki refused to come out of his bedroom while Tadashi was home. He also refused to open his door when Tadashi tried to talk to him.

He was beginning to panic – Tsukki was rebuilding emotional walls that had taken Tadashi _years_ to break down in the first place and all he could do was watch. It was… heartbreaking, he thought, for lack of a better word.

Yes. _Heartbreaking_.

It felt right, even if nothing else did.

He felt like his life was falling apart – his mother’s condition was deteriorating, the extra shifts were taking their toll and home didn’t feel like home anymore. It was cold and empty and all Tadashi felt there was alone. All Tadashi ever felt anymore was alone. Like he was screaming for help that would never come.

 _Alone_.

He pushed the thought away, even as he stood outside of Tsukki’s bedroom door, tired of trying to get a response. He rested his forehead against the wall and allowed himself the tiredness that had been there all along, repressed because Tadashi had thought that there was no time for it. But right then there was no denying it anymore – Tadashi was tired.

“I think,” He began. Whether Tsukki could hear him or not didn’t concern him – he was too tired to try anymore. “I think I’m done.”

The silence that followed just served to cement his decision. If Tsukki wasn’t going to try, why should he? He’d just been talking to a closed bedroom door.

“I’m tired. I’m done now and I’m tired and I’m going to bed.”

The bedroom door didn’t open and the air was as still as it had been before.

So he left.

 

Tadashi took a sick day for the first time in four years the day after that. He couldn’t quite place the feeling that stopped him from getting out of bed that morning, but he did know more than anything that he was sad and tired and that getting out of bed felt like something he just couldn’t do right then.

It felt good to let go for once – to allow himself some respite, however brief. He had been so tired for so long, refusing to acknowledge it only because it hadn’t seemed as important as everything else. But it was. _He_ was as important as everything else and, as guilty as it made him feel, it felt good to let himself admit that.

His bed was soft and warm and far more comforting than the cold air that filled the apartment – it was winter in there already and Tadashi could feel it with every step he took and every breath that filled his lungs.

He wondered if Tsukki noticed too; if, between his distant looks and lethargic shuffling, he felt the cold air that he brought into every room with him. Did he feel it the way Tadashi did? He didn't know. He could never know.

Tadashi wished, not for the first time, that he could read minds. When it came to his best friend, he had never been able to tell what was going on inside his head. He liked to believe that he did, but ultimately he was all too aware of how Tsukki distanced himself and how easy Tadashi had made it for him over the years. He indulged his friend far too often – allowed the distance between them to grow because it was what Tsukki wanted and because Tadashi had kept secrets.

So Tsukki alone wasn’t to blame, but Tadashi wasn’t about to absolve him of guilt. Not this time.

Tadashi slept – not well, but far more than usual at least. If nothing else, the sleep offered a reprieve. He was so tired and he was forever his own worst enemy in thought and belief. The thoughts lulled him into uneasy sleep, seeing him in and out of light and easily disturbed rest, but while he was asleep nothing could touch him – not even his own thoughts. He was grateful for that at least; that there was a break from all of it.

_I shouldn’t have told him._


	13. Chapter 13

Kenma's hands were shaking, but he couldn't find it in himself right at that moment to care. He was nervous – the kind of nervous that he’d been on his and Shouyou’s first date. The kind of nervous that made him feel light headed and had him preparing himself for the possibility that he might just puke butterflies. The kind of nervous he hadn’t been in a long time.

Shouyou was nervous too, Kenma could tell. His eyes were cast down and he had his hands shoved firmly into the pockets of his jeans, like he was afraid their fingers might brush in passing. Or maybe it was just because his palms were sweaty, just like Kenma’s were.

It all made him feel seventeen again.

“So… did you like the movie?” He found himself asking. _What a stupid question_. He regretted it immediately afterward, but Shouyou didn’t seem to mind.

They walked slowly, side by side, their steps having fallen into a matching rhythm that soothed Kenma somewhat as his hands dangled by his sides. They suddenly felt empty.

Perhaps, if they walked slowly enough…

“Yeah, I did.” Shouyou looked up and smiled, “Did you?”

And just like that, time slowed down a bit and Kenma felt a pang in his chest – another something he hadn’t felt in a long time. He looked at Shouyou, saw the genuine smile on his face and felt something familiar bloom inside of him.

He smiled.

“I did.”

 

“And then you kissed him!”

“No, I-”

“But you wanted to, right?”

“Well, I-”

“Oh my god, you totally did!”

“Kuro!” Kenma’s face had grown warm quite early on in the conversation and was no doubt bright red by the time he’d actually gotten Kuro to shut up for more than three seconds.

He had no idea why he was so flustered, it’s not like it was actually a _date_ or anything.

“Alright, alright. So… tell me more about your date.”

“Leave.”

Kuro laughed and clapped Kenma on the back. Though, looking back, Kenma wondered if clapped was the right word. The motion had been that, but the feeling – the action – had been something entirely different. Kuro’s hand had been there, but barely, as if he’d been afraid to touch Kenma at all.

It took Kuro a moment to come back to himself after he’d finished laughing. A short moment in which his hand hovered just before it touched Kenma’s back, and then when it did… it was gentle, almost ghosting over Kenma, who suddenly felt as if he were the only solid thing in the room.

“I’m joking, Ken. Tell me more about your… _outing_ , then.”

 

Maybe he’d imagined it, but Kenma was almost sure that Shouyou had hugged him a little longer than necessary when they said goodbye. A little tighter than necessary. A little closer than necessary.

And maybe, just maybe Shouyou’s hand had lingered for just a moment too long when their hands had brushed against each other on the walk to the train station. And maybe Kenma’s had done the same.

Maybe Kenma had accidentally held Shouyou the way he used to, with their bodies close enough for him to feel Shouyou’s heartbeat speed up a little, for him to recognise in passing the familiar smell of cinnamon and something vaguely citrus that always seemed to cling to Shouyou’s skin. Maybe Kenma had remembered, as their bodies lingered together for just a fraction too long, what it had felt like to be in love with the boy in his arms.

But then maybe Kenma had pulled back, his arms quickly retracting and wrapping around his now shaking body as if he were trying to protect himself from…

_From what?_

And maybe Shouyou had asked him what was wrong and Kenma had replied, “ _Nothing_.” When he really meant, “ _Everything_.”

And then, perhaps, Shouyou had shrugged and said, “Okay.” When it was really anything but, his already small frame seemingly becoming smaller with every second that sad smile stayed on his face.

Maybe that really was what happened and Kenma hadn’t imagined it at all.

 

“And then he got on the train and I… stayed to watch the train leave.”

Kuro didn’t say anything and Kenma didn’t tell him that he’d stayed until the last train left that night because he hadn’t known what else to do.

But he felt like Kuro knew that anyway.

He turned his head to face his best friend, to look at him and try to tell what he was thinking. He never could anymore.

Kuro’s eyes were closed, but he wasn’t sleeping. His face was pale and he looked… sad, almost. Tired, definitely. Kenma wondered if he was ever meant to see Kuro like that – as vulnerable as he was right then.

Then, as if he had sensed Kenma looking at him, Kuro’s expression changed and he turned to look at Kenma with a smile that they both knew was forced. Kenma hated that.

“You look sad when nobody’s looking.” He said, wanting more than anything to know the reason for it.

“Do I?” Kenma didn’t say anything and Kuro didn’t expect an answer – he knew the answer already. “Maybe I’m just a bit tired, Ken. I’ll be fine.”

“Hmm.” Kenma wished for a second that he could believe his friend – that his even tone and easy smile that could fool anyone could still fool _him_. That he could go on ignoring the signs because that was what Kuro wanted him to do.

 Kenma turned back over and looked at the ceiling, wondering why Kuro could never tell him anything. Wondering why his best friend had this sad look in his eyes and that fake smile on his face.

“Ken?”

“Yeah?” It was quiet for a bit and Kenma knew that Kuro was crying. He wondered if Kuro knew that too.

“Stay with me?”

Then he felt Kuro’s hand ghost over his and he knew that Kuro did know. He took hold of Kuro’s hand and wondered again if it was more for his friend or more because Kenma needed to feel him there too – because Kenma needed to know there was something still tangible about the ghost boy in the bed next to him. Because he was tired of his hands feeling empty.

 “Yeah.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so... I am almost one hundred percent sure that everything will start wrapping up from here. No more surprise angst, yay! (Probably)  
> Anyway, I would like to thank everyone who has read this for sticking with me and giving such positive feedback! I appreciate every comment and all the Kudos more than I can put into words. Thank you!  
> Thank you all so much and enjoy!!

If Kei had noticed at all that Yamaguchi had stopped talking to him, he didn’t say anything about it. He didn’t feel like he needed to, nor did he feel as if he had anything of substance to say anyway.

And if Kei had noticed that Kuroo hadn’t been himself, he didn’t say anything about that either.

Things usually had a funny way of working themselves out when left well enough alone, in Kei’s personal experience. There was no need to interfere in things that weren’t his business to begin with – that usually only led to more trouble in the long run. So Kei left everything the way it was, for better or for worse.

He and Yamaguchi went about their daily lives, shifting past each other in the hallway and eating in complete silence. Maybe it was better that way, Kei thought –  easier than trying to explain something he still wasn’t sure about. Still, though Kei was relieved that he didn’t have to actually talk about his private matters anymore, the silent meals were far from peaceful for him. Just seeing Yamaguchi’s face set his mind to work, forced him to think about everything he least wanted to think about at any given time. It was exhausting.

It made him feel sick – all of it. School, Kuroo, his parents, Yamaguchi… It all felt too much. But still Kei found himself heading to the kitchen every day around the same times to sit with Yamaguchi, even if he rarely ate. And still he found that Yamaguchi put two plates out every day and that he would put Kei’s uneaten food in the fridge after he was done eating his own, just in case Kei got hungry. Kei knew that it was partly Yamaguchi’s kind nature that had him do it, but he wondered if there was something else behind it too.

He wondered if the second plate would still be there even if Kei wasn’t.

 

“How’s… Kenma?” They were running out of things to talk about – Kuroo wasn’t great company these days and they were both avoiding the obvious, skilfully avoiding the bigger issues that sat between them even over the phone.

“He’s great. Just… great. He’s going out with that Hinata kid again and they’re… great.” Kuroo sighed a sad kind of sigh, his tone far too dark for the apparent good news he was relaying.

“You don’t sound too convinced.”

“Don’t I?” Kei hummed in affirmation. “Oh. I… Why wouldn’t I be convinced? It’s… great.”

“It must be. You’ve said that four times.”

“Have I?” Kei hummed again. “Well, I suppose that’s because it is… Great.”

Kei didn’t investigate further. If there was something really bothering Kuroo, he’d tell Kei in due time.

_No he wouldn’t._

Kei swatted the thought away as quickly as it had come.

“Yes. Great.”

 

“You’re really stupid sometimes, you know.” Yamaguchi said to him one day over a bowl of soggy cereal. He didn’t look up when he said it, but Kei felt the intention behind it. They were his first words to Kei in over ten days. “Really stupid.”

“What makes you say that, all of a sudden?” Kei didn’t like the way his voice sounded right then – strange, like it wasn’t his own. Yamaguchi dropped his spoon and Kei grimaced when he heard it hit the bowl, the sound far too loud now that he was used to the quiet.

“I know you, Tsukishima.” Kei grimaced again. “I know you like pushing people away. And that’s fine – if it’s me you’re doing that to. I’m resilient. Persistent. But you’re a real idiot if you think it doesn’t hurt.” He paused, collecting his voice again after it had broken on the last word. He took a deep breath, “Because it does.”

“I-”

“It does. And that is exactly why I’m not going to let you do that to anyone else.”

“I don’t-”

“Shut up.” Yamaguchi’s voice was firm and it was clear Kei wasn’t going to get a word in until he was done. “I know you’re having problems with Kuroo-san, and I know it’s because you’re too proud to do anything about it.”

The room was still. Kei was shocked silent and Yamaguchi was waiting for a reaction, so neither of them said anything until Kei managed to pull himself together again.

“How-”

“The walls are thin.” A moment of silence stretched out between them before Yamaguchi sighed and continued on, “I’m worried about you. And Kenma-san is worried about both of you. You need to fix this.”

“Okay, how-”

“Hinata.”

“Oh.” Kei had almost forgotten that Yamaguchi was still friends with their teammates from high school. It seemed almost bizarre to him that they were all still so connected when he’d tried so hard to make sure they weren’t.

“ _Talk to him, Tsukki_.”

 

Kei wondered what his conversation with Yamaguchi meant for them – whether or not Yamaguchi would be willing to properly speak to him again after that. Yamaguchi had looked so tired…

Kei wanted to talk to him far more than he’d have liked to admit. He wanted to know why those dark circles had formed under Yamaguchi’s usually bright eyes, he wanted to know why Yamaguchi still cooked for both of them even when Kei felt like he least deserved it. He wanted to ask how Yamaguchi’s mother was doing. But he didn’t – something was holding him back. His own stupid pride, perhaps. He hated that in himself. For a while not so long ago, he’d almost believed he was a better person than that. Now… he was sure that he’d been wrong.

Kei took Yamaguchi’s advice, both because what he’d said at that table had been one hundred percent correct and because he knew that his friend deserved at least that from him.

He thought for a long time after making a decision, but he knew that there was someone he needed to talk to before he did anything.

“Kenma, I think we need to talk.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm... surprise! It's more angst! (I know.)  
> Thanks for bearing with me through all of this - as difficult as I'm sure it has been. I appreciate every read, Kudos and comment so much! Thank you all and I hope you enjoy!

“Tsukishima called me yesterday.” Kenma said in passing as he flipped lazily through one of his textbooks.

“Oh? That’s rare.” Kenma nodded but didn’t elaborate, “What about?” Tetsurou tried to sound casual, as if his heart wasn’t racing at the thought.

_There’s nothing to be worried about. Nothing at all._

 “He asked me if you were okay. He was worried about you, Kuro.” Kenma closed the textbook and rolled over to look at the ceiling.

“… And what did you say?” Tetsurou was glad that Kenma’s full attention wasn’t on him right then at least. His best friend was far too observant and Tetsurou was only so good at hiding his true feelings.

“I told him the truth.”

“The truth?”

“Mmm. I told him that you’re horribly depressed, can’t sleep unless I’m in the bed with you and, for some reason, you feel as if keeping your problems bottled up is more productive than just telling someone about it and getting the help you so desperately need.”

“I’m not depressed.” Kenma turned his head and looked pointedly at Tetsurou.

“That’s a lie and we both know it.” Tetsurou stayed silent, too tired to argue. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

Tetsurou thought about it for a moment. For the most part, he thought, it was because he hadn’t really come to terms with it himself. The only reason Kenma knew in the first place was because he was horribly observant. Tetsurou finally closed his textbook as well.

“Well, I never told you either. There isn’t even anything to tell. I’m fine.” Tetsurou cringed – that hadn’t even sounded convincing to _him_.

“Yeah, well… good luck with that.” Kenma continued to look up at the ceiling, as if there were something there to look at. Tetsurou looked up too and saw nothing.

“I’m sorry, Kenma.” Kenma didn’t react and Tetsurou wondered if Kenma had heard him. Maybe it was better if he hadn’t.

“I didn’t really say any of that to Tsukishima.” He said, almost as if he were talking to himself. “Though, perhaps I should have.”

Tetsurou didn’t say anything. He didn’t feel like he needed to.

“All of it was true, and he deserves to know – he loves you, Kuro, and he’s not stupid. He knows there’s something wrong. And he knows you won’t tell him what it is. You should tell him at least, even if you won’t tell me.”

_I’d tell him if I knew._

 

Kenma never told Tetsurou what he’d really said to Tsukki, and Testurou never asked. It was probably some excuse or cover-up, knowing Kenma – he tended towards the truth, but he also knew when it wasn’t his place to tell. A part of Tetsurou almost wished that Kenma _had_ told Tsukki everything, so that he didn’t have to. Maybe that was selfish of him to think, but he just felt so _guilty_. Guilty that Kenma had lied for him, guilty that he wasn’t talking to one of the people he cared most about in the world, guilty that people were worried about him. Just… _guilty_.

“I don’t know what to tell him, Kenma.” He whispered, probably loud enough for Kenma to have heard him – if he’d been awake. Tetsurou knew that he wasn’t. So he talked because nobody could hear him, but also because there was somebody _there_. He didn’t feel so alone when Kenma slept next to him at least, even if he was still confused. Even if he still didn’t have anything figured out.

All he knew was that being alone didn’t feel right anymore – not like it used to. He would lie awake at night, alone in his own bed and unable to sleep because the sheets felt ice cold without anybody to sleep next to him.

“I feel so _wrong_. This isn’t how it was supposed to be, this isn’t… this isn’t what I wanted.”

He wished he knew what he did want. He wished somebody would tell him what to do.

He wished he could talk to his mom.

“I do miss her, Kenma. I know I said I was fine. I know I pretended that it didn’t hurt as much as it did, as much as it still does. I just want to talk to her…”

It wasn’t fair. No twenty-year-old should have to attend their own mother’s funeral. None of that should’ve happened. It just wasn’t fair.

 

Tetsurou heard his door open and knew it was Kenma even before he’d said anything. His footsteps were soft and his presence barely-there even as he sat down on the edge of Tetsurou’s bed, but he made the room feel warmer and Tetsurou was thankful for that – he was tired of being cold.

“You’re not going to go to school today?” Kenma asked, though he probably already knew the answer.

“No.”

“You’ll fail if you don’t write your exams.”

 _I’ll probably fail even if I do write them_.

“I know.”

“You’ll have to redo your second year.”

“I know.”

Kenma was quiet for a bit, one of his hands resting on the blankets covering Tetsurou’s shoulder. He needed that – it wasn’t empty like everyone else’s comfort had been.

“Alright then. Tsukishima’s still here, if you’d like to see him.”

“Okay.” Kenma nodded and stood up, stopping just before the door on his way out.

He took a deep breath, “It’s okay for you to be sad, you know. Nobody will think any less of you for it.”

Tetsurou stared at the door for a while after he left. It was plain white now, but little bits of the paint had peeled off because he’d taken all of his posters down – he felt like they didn’t belong there anymore when the rest of the house felt so empty and colorless. When _he_ felt so empty and colorless. Kenma had sighed in that way of his when he’d bundled the torn posters up and taken them out of Tetsurou’s room that day. He hadn’t said anything though – he was sad too, after all. He understood.

“Thank you, Kenma.”


	16. Chapter 16

“Kenma…? You okay?” Shouyou asked. Kenma had gotten quieter as their phone call progressed, which wasn’t new at all really. This time though, Shouyou couldn’t hear the comforting sounds of Kenma’s fingers tapping buttons or the soft music and sound effects that usually accompanied it.

“Hmm? Oh. Yes, just… tired.” Shouyou didn’t doubt that, but he also knew that there was more to it.

“We can stop for tonight, if you want. You should get some sleep.”

“No!” Kenma said, a little too quickly. A little too loudly. He cleared his throat, “Sorry, I… No. Just keep talking. Please.” Shouyou frowned. Something was wrong.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” Shouyou wasn’t entirely sure what ‘it’ was, but he wasn’t entirely unsure either. Kenma was careful about what he said most of the time, but they’d fallen into a comfortably familiar routine again – phone calls after work that ended at midnight and long train rides almost every weekend. Sometimes Kenma forgot that he wasn’t meant to let things slip.

Shouyou heard him take a deep breath, knew that it meant Kenma was thinking hard about something.

“I… I’m still a little worried about Kuro, that’s all.” Shouyou knew that was an understatement, but didn’t say anything. “I haven’t seen him like this in so long, not since…”

He was speaking slowly, quietly. Shouyou could barely hear him, but he knew that tone of voice – he remembered it well. He remembered how it had sounded over the phone, when Kenma had called and told him about the accident. He remembered how it sounded the day of the funeral, when Kenma had asked him to stay another night because Kenma was strong, but not as strong as he wanted people to think. Not as strong as he wanted Kuroo-san to think. Shouyou remembered it because he didn’t know a lot, but he knew that he never wanted to hear that tone of voice again.

“I know,” he said, because there weren’t enough words to say what he really meant. Kenma seemed to understand anyway.

“Thank you, Shouyou.”

There was no rhythmic tapping of buttons that night, nor soft music to accompany it – there was only Kenma. Shouyou stayed on the line until all he could hear was even breathing and a television playing in another room, and he wondered if it was selfish of him to enjoy this. This _something_ that he’d been missing all this time.

 

Shouyou remembered sometimes what it felt like to be truly alive; what it felt like to see beauty in the world around him and smile because he was genuinely happy. Most of the time, he felt like that looking at Kenma.

Kenma was where Shouyou felt most at home, as cheesy and cliché as he knew that was – Kenma was his Person and if that made him cheesy and cliché, he didn’t mind it at all.

“Shou?” Shouyou startled a bit as he was brought back to reality by Kenma’s voice, “Were you listening to me?”

 “Sorry… I just got a little distracted.” He’d probably been smiling at Kenma like a love-struck idiot for upwards of five minutes. He cringed inwardly and hoped Kenma hadn’t noticed.

Kenma had _definitely_ noticed. It was _Kenma_.

Shouyou relaxed as Kenma smiled back at him – he’d noticed, but he didn’t mind.

“What were you thinking about?”

“You.”

“Oh… I, uh… wow, okay. Umm, thank you?” He seemed more surprised than Shouyou had anticipated – given that he’d just been caught staring – but Kenma’s nervous, breathy laughs let him know that it was the good kind.

Shouyou found himself smiling even wider as he watched Kenma try to recover, blushing and sputtering his way to a different topic of conversation. It was all perfect, perhaps even more so than when they’d been younger. Shouyou knew things now that made every moment like this even sweeter – he knew what sadness was like, how it felt to be lonely, but he also knew that he didn’t have to feel like that all the time anymore. He was the one who decided those things, and he’d decided to be better. It would take time, and it would be hard to do, but he wasn’t alone and it wasn’t impossible.

He could be happy.

 

Sitting around the dinner table with Natsu and his mom was another thing that Shouyou had grown to fully appreciate. Hearing Natsu ramble on about school while his mom nodded and smiled occasionally at her anecdotes felt like home in a way that only home could.

“So how was it, Shou?” Natsu asked suddenly, with a mouth full of food and little to no regard for the look of utter dismay on their mother’s face when some of it ended up on Natsu’s clean white school shirt.

“How was what?” Natsu raised an eyebrow and gestured vaguely as way of explanation.

“You know… _it._ ”

“Uhhh… fine?” He answered, still not entirely sure what the ‘it’ she was talking about was. She finally finished chewing before scoffing at his answer and gesturing again, this time by tapping her temple with her forefinger.

Oh.

“Natsu!” Their mother finally interjected, “That’s inappropriate!”

“What? How else am I supposed to say it?”

Shouyou shook off the momentary shock and cleared his throat loudly to diffuse the situation somewhat.

“Um… it’s fine mom, really. I don’t mind. It was… fine, thank you Natsu.” He said, smiling weakly at both of them before getting up and taking his mostly empty plate to the kitchen.

He needed a moment.

He could still faintly hear Natsu and his mother talking not ten feet away but decided to block it out in favour of a quiet moment to himself. It wasn’t weird that Natsu had asked, or… he didn’t think it was.

Maybe it had been the gesture – the one that made him feel a little… crazy? Abnormal?

He knew that’s not what Natsu had intended so he couldn’t blame her, but it made him realise something that he wished he could still be ignorant of – that he _was_ a little abnormal, at least to his own family. Natsu and his mom couldn’t possibly understand, even if they wanted to. All of this was new to them and they didn’t know how Shouyou was feeling, not really. They didn’t understand why he sometimes found it difficult to get out of bed, or why his bad days were worse than theirs ever were. He knew that, and yet… it had surprised him. That little gesture, that little misunderstanding, that split second realisation.

Everything was so momentarily perfect that he’d almost forgotten… that there was something wrong with him too.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so... this is probably the final sad thing that needed to happen and perhaps the saddest. Major warning for that. So, if you're sensitive to the mention of somebody dying/panic attacks please skip the last paragraph. Thanks, as always and I would love feedback on this if you can! I have an end goal in mind so we're getting there!

Tadashi had been surprised too, when Hinata wasn’t recommended for a university volleyball team. It had seemed obvious that he would be, back then – he was the star of the team alongside Kageyama after all, and Kageyama had been spoilt for choice at the end of their third year. It seemed cruel, after all they’d been through; after how hard Hinata had worked the whole time Tadashi had known him. Cruel and senseless.

Tadashi still didn’t have an answer, but now that so many other things had happened, it didn’t seem as important anymore. Hinata had been sad for a long time after the end of their school career and Tadashi couldn’t blame him, but Tadashi had his own problems to worry about. Though, even years later, he still found himself pondering that same question – why?

“Maybe I really was too short. Like… Why would they take someone like me over someone like Ushiwaka, you know? Kageyama and I were great together, but on an individual level? I could never beat someone like that.” Hinata said it almost casually now, like it hadn’t crushed him not two years ago.

“Yeah, in terms of raw power, but you were unmatched in speed and agility. It’s crazy to me that they would pass up on a talented player for lack of height or raw hitting power. Really crazy.” Hinata smiled, his expression warm with the memories of their time at Karasuno and, if Tadashi wasn’t crazy, something much fresher and more well-defined too.

“It wasn’t my time I guess. It was hard to accept, but I’m starting to realise there’s more to life than volleyball and I think I needed that to happen for me to realise it.”

Spending time with Hinata had been difficult for Tadashi since school had ended. Their schedules rarely matched up because Tadashi worked so much and Hinata often found it difficult to socialise, but lately Tadashi found himself seeking out his former classmate’s company more and more. Hinata was healing, finally, and Tadashi found the energy surrounding him to be healing because of it. Tadashi needed that now more than ever.

 

Tsukki had been getting better too and Tadashi had been seeing it – whether or not Tsukki had meant for him to see it wasn’t clear to him, but he supposed that it didn’t matter either way. He was glad his friend was getting better. All he’d ever wanted was for Tsukki to be happy with himself and the people around him, and it seemed he was finally getting there.

Tsukki’s conversations with Kuroo-san every night were long again, sometimes keeping Tadashi up until the early hours of the morning if he was home, but he wasn’t about to complain. It soothed him, to hear his friend speak with that fondness that had been missing from his voice for months, even if that fondness was still absent from his and Tadashi’s conversations – if you could even call them that. Tadashi didn’t need that as much as we was sure Kuroo-san did, if Hinata was right.

Still, it stung a little to hear Tsukki laugh through the wall that separated them and realise he didn’t remember the last time they had laughed together.

“How’s Kuroo-san?” He asked, in a moment of weakness when the silence between them had become too much.

“Fine.” Tsukki replied, never lifting his head. He was moving his food around in the bowl, looking at it as though it might rescue him from whatever Tadashi might say. But Tadashi wasn’t going to push anymore.

“Oh, that’s good.” He hated this, all of it. He wished he could say what he really wanted to, ask the questions that were really on his mind.

_How are you, Tsukki?_

_Why don’t you call your parents? They miss you._

_Why won’t you talk to me?_

But that was out of the question. Tadashi had made up his mind outside of Tsukki’s bedroom that day, and the most he would do from this point had already been done. Tadashi was tired, but he was glad Tsukki had Kuroo-san. He really was.

 

“I am so sorry, Yamaguchi-san. So, so sorry,” Natsumi was saying. He was hearing it, over and over like some sort of recording stuck on the same few words, but they didn’t mean anything to him. It was like he was underwater, everything around him was muffled and blurry and he was sitting down but he didn’t really remember how he’d gotten there. He wasn’t even sure he was still breathing.

He’d known, in theory, that she wasn’t going to live very long. They had said anywhere from four years to twenty – and of course Tadashi had been hoping for twenty, it was only natural. She wasn’t dead yet, there was a chance she would make it through this, but with every repeat of Natsumi’s words Tadashi became more and more aware of how small those chances were.

“She might…” He found himself saying, maybe out of instinct or desperation, maybe because he needed to hear something other than Natsumi’s endless stream of sympathies. The warm hand on his shoulder grounded him somewhat, reminded him that he was present. He wished it wouldn’t.

“Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry,” She said, the hope in her voice making his chest tighten somewhat and the apology at the end even more.

His mother had pneumonia. In late-stage Alzheimer’s that was far from unheard of, so Tadashi had been prepared for that – five years just didn’t seem like a long enough time for that to have happened already. It was too soon.

“So, she’s- ”

“Been taken to the hospital already, yes.” Natsumi was calm, due to experience Tadashi was sure. Older people die, it was a fact of life and Natsumi knew that better than anyone.

But Tadashi’s mother wasn’t that old. She wasn’t like everyone else.

“Okay. Okay.” He felt cold from the inside out. Like there was wet sand in his chest – heavy and cold, weighing him down further with every breath, every movement, every word.

He’d gotten the call two hours before, when he was at work. Nakamura-san had let him go immediately, promising that she would be alright by herself for a few hours – it wasn’t that busy anyway. They’d known she was developing it two or three days before that, but they were monitoring her, they’d promised him if it got worse they’d call. It wasn’t necessarily going to be life threatening.

But it was. And now Tadashi felt like his twenty years had flashed by in less than a minute.

“Is there someone I can call? To come pick you up?” Tadashi felt freshly winded at the question, his mind working far too slow but his thoughts felt like they were racing by like he had no time left to think them.

“I’m fine, Natsumi.” He said, slowly and with purpose, firm enough to convince them both. But one of them wasn’t convinced.

“Give me your phone, Yamaguchi.”


End file.
